Odyssey Of The Stars
by Christoph Andretti
Summary: After the insipid third Quarter Quell, our beloved president has decided to up the ante in the most extreme way possible. By going to the final frontier. It is the Hunger Games...IN SPACE! SYOT. SYOT CLOSED. You can still sponsor. LET THE GAMES BEGIN!
1. Prologue

The office sat between the fine walls of oak and anxiety. With the fan ricketing above while it wafted the warm air, President Lanarsus sat in his white leather chair. His head was resting in his hands. The sun outside covered the unlit room in the lukewarm sunlight, reaching beyond the large skyline of the Capitol outside. Surrounding the layers of books carved deep within the pristine bookcases, pictures and paintings of bloodbaths and slaughters coated canvas. On his desk lay a giant plastic binder and a curved computer screen.

President Lanarsus was at a complete psychological standstill. He was stuck in a hill of muck larger than the fields of District Eleven on a rainy day. Looking up, he examined the highlights of the previous Hunger Games circling the room. Glorious fallen corpses, tributes, and interviews taunted him, dangling an idea over his head like a man searching for money. The problem was that the last Hunger Games was a complete bore. After the hype behind the Quarter Quell and the special rule designed for it, he figured it would be the most thrilling Hunger Games yet.

Sadly, his hopes were dashed. The bloodbath had not even ten people involved. Most of tributes died under natural circumstances. One even died from tripping and snapping her neck on a jagged rock. It was such a bore, Capitol citizens started to bet how long the games would last. Eventually, there was a throwdown between the final two tributes, and it almost made up for the boredom preceding it. However, it was not nearly enough for him.

After disposing of the last Gamemaker, President Lanarsus was busy writing the new rules to make up for the lackluster year before. He had hit a brick wall. Nothing came into his mind. A Games involving prisoners? Too inconsequential. A Games with only Capitol children. He threw that idea in the furnace the moment he got it. That was unthinkable. An all-star edition where they brought together the previous winners? That didn't sound too bad. Maybe another time, though.

Just as he reached for his headache medication, the oak door burst open. A man with greying hair and thick-rimmed black glasses trotted in. President Lanarsus just about keeled over. Head Gamemaker Jerome Bentwon flung a folder onto the desk.

"Do you knock?" Lanarsus shouted.

"No. I've been waiting a week for your 'suggestions', and nothing has come out. So i decided to put my mind together and come up with something."

"Do not use that tone of voice with me." Lanarsus said while pointing at Jerome.

"Or what? You'll kill me. You realize nobody else in the world wants this job anymore, right? Not after last year. You should be grateful."

"What do you have in mind, idiot?"

Jerome reached down to the folder and opened it up. Inside, a small stack of papers lay. Many scientific inquiries and notes were compiled together. On the front, a picture of a large circular space station was clipped onto the front. It was a white horizontal wheel with a large mirror dome in the center. Eight pathways led to the circular ring surrounding the dome. On the sides of the picture, two smaller replicas of the main station appeared.

"Space?"

"Exactly. I know you probably won't understand the scientific aspects, so I'll dumb it down for you. We are launching three space stations into, where else, space. We'll knock out the tributes, send them up, and the bloodbath will be in the large dome in the middle. We haven't decided what will be in the middle, and we haven't decided if we will turn on and off the zero gravity. Regardless, everybody loves space."

"I don't."

Jerome rolled his blue eyes. "You don't love anything except your books."

"Those books are antiques."

"I found a copy of your precious 'Ulysses' at a dive on the west side."

"That's probably worth a lot. I would sell it, if I were you."

"The point," Jerome loudly said. "Is that I feel this will be fascinating. Not only that, but I guarantee it has never been done before."

President Lanarsus sighed. As much as he hated Jerome, he was right about everything he said. He was the best man for the job, and space did sound like an excellent idea. Even if he was not a huge fan of it, it was much better than his whole-arena-is-quicksand idea. Who knows, maybe the districts will actually like it so much, they can join in on the fun, instead of being forced to. It would also boost the economy with high-tech jobs by bringing in the space program. It was te perfect plane from the worst person possible.

"Let's look into it. I'll call a meeting on Wednesday, and we'll seal the deal."

"Just as I thought. By the way, your receptionist yelled at me for walking in. You should fire her."

"Or maybe I should execute you, instead."

Jerome turned around and started to leave the room. His dress shoes clanked on the hardwood floor. "Working with you, I may just do you a favor."

He slammed the door behind him. President Lanarsus poured he remnants of the bottle down his throat.


	2. Sponsor List

**Well, all three of you have spoken, and I have decided I will be enacting the principle of sponsoring for these games. Mostly, because I feel that the sponsoring for these games will be very unique and creative. If there are any suggestions for adding something onto this list, comment and let me know. I will consider it. **

**Points**

Submit an extra tribute : 5 points

Review (constructive. None of those "its kewl" reviews): 5 points.

Favorite: 10 points

Follow: 10 points

Referring somebody to favorite/follow/review: 15 points

Question response (correct answer): 10 points

Guess of who will die next (after bloodbath): 30 points

Predict any tributes training score (guess up to 3 tributes) 20 points

Trifecta bloodbathers (guess three people who will die in bloodbath) 50 points

Natural trifecta (guess next three tributes to die in a row): 125 points

* * *

**Rewards**

A historical photograph of Nicolas Cage: 5 points

A historical photograph of Sandra Bullock and Alfonso Cuaron: 5 points

Matches: 10 points

Bandage: 10 points

Water (with iodine): 15 points

Freeze dried food: 20 points

A club: 20 points

Knife: 25 points

Plant guide (for poisonous foods): 25 points

Whip: 30 points

First Aid Kit: 40 points

Morphine: 45 points

Cocaine: 50 points

Space tether: 55 points

Axe: 60 Points

Roast beef dinner (feeds two): 65 points

Sword: 70 points

Bow and Arrows (12 arrows): 70 points

Map: 75 points

Flash bang Grenade (2): 80 points

Smoke Grenade (3): 80 points

Space suit: 90 points

Space ship Instruction manual: 95 points

Body armor (full body): 95 points

GPS Tribute Tracker: 100 points

High-tech Capitol Vaccine (cures anything): 110 points

Pistol (6 bullets): 115 Points

Jetpack: 125 points

Card Key (to special room): 150 points


	3. Tribute List

**ALRIGHT LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, I have a strong showing so far for my first SYOT. I like a good number of these tributes. Keep sending them in! You don't want to miss out on this opportunity. Also, please participate in my poll for the question of sponsoring in these Games. Thank you very much.**

**TH****E**** TRIBUTES**

**District 1**

Male: Glint Mugg (18)-**Xymena Falling**

Female: Satine La'more (17)-**HappilyEnding**

**District 2**

Male: Cadmium Ruse (16)-**luvakatsuki3**

Female: Slate Bedford (17)-**DecidedlyDestiel**

**District 3**

Male: Jacob "Jay" O'Connor (18)-**sonofthetrigod**

Female: Arlyne Hunter (15)-**KhaalidaNyx**

**District 4**

Male: Romeo Caliteo (17)-**LaceytheLiar**

Female: Paige Parker (15)-**XxxPaigeStylesxxX**

**District 5**

Male: Timas Etienne (12)-**TheGrammerHawk**

Female: Cyrene Polymer (13)-**grandvizier527**

**District 6**

Male: Casmond "Caz" Indianno (12)-**Platrium**

Female: Monette Zacharias (12)-**Platrium**

**District 7**

Male: Aaron Artaga (17)-**TheSecretNovelist**

Female: Eva-Marie Green (16)-**TheSecretNovelist**

**District 8**

Male: Ambrosi Finley (15)-**TheGrammerHawk**

Female:Cleo Ellis (17)-**Sofaloaf3**

**District**** 9**

Male: Aslovee Chesed (16)-**KhaalidaNyx**

Female: Edan Jibril (12)-**HiddenAngelWithWhiteWings**

**District 10**

Male: Sirch Lichen (17)-**sonofthetrigod**

Female: Talon Brock (17)-**X****xxPaigeStylesxxX**

**District 11**

Male: Xavier Thomas (18)-**Mon Devou**

Female: Koring Evans (17)-**HappilyEnding**

**District 12**

Male: Joshua Adams (18)-**sonofthetrigod**

Female: Venus Whitmore (16)-**xSakura-Kissesx**

* * *

**Application**

Name:

Age:

Gender:

District:

Personality:

Appearence:

History:

Family:

Friends:

Likes:

Dislikes:

Token:

View of capital/games:

Reaped or Volunteered:

Reaction:

Allies:

What person:

Strength:

Weakness:

Fear/Habits/Pet peeves:

Weapon of choice:

Kill reaction.

Romance:


	4. Prologue Part 2

Jerome hated the mirror walls in his office. He never felt he had privacy locked away in his cubicle like a monkey on display at a zoo. Racks with various pictures of himself and other co-workers were melded onto the sides. Sitting at his desk, he rubbed a dry wipe on the immaculate surface, lifting up the small Panem flag stand on the corner. He smiled as he lowered his head, and he sniffed up the lemon scent spreading around the area. He was a big fan of organization,

That was most likely why he hated this job. If things ran like he wanted them to, then it would be a dream come true. However, it seemed like every corner he turned, a brick wall would be there to stop his progress. He was so close to just making a simple forest arena. Just letting the normal somewhat harsh environment grace the vision of millions of eyes pointed at their giant televisions, projectors, and mobile devices.

He would not give up. If he had to grovel for the extra funding, he would. Even if it would be the most expensive games, President Lanarsus did not have half a brain cell to come up with a better idea, and the cronies scrambling around the Games offices would barely speak to him. All he had for now was his computer, mini-fridge of cashews, and the bowl o lemons next to the silver lamp on his desk.

His looked up and saw a woman walking around the corner. She stopped at the door before yanking it open. She hustled in, sliding papers in her hands as she rested them on his desk as soft as the classical music emanating from the ceiling.

"The meeting starts in an hour." She said, adjusting her brown blouse.

Jerome threw his hands in the air. "What meeting? I don't have a meeting."

"Do you think I'm lying to you?"

"Don't talk to me like that. And yes, I think you're lying," Jerome said.

The girl rolled her mocha eyes. "I've worked here for eight years. The only times I lie are at the parties."

"What'd you lie about at my birthday party?"

"When I sung 'happy birthday.' I was lying about that," She said.

"I don't get it. Anyway, why do I have a meeting? I get off in an hour."

"I do, too. Which is why I'm stuck here. The Board of Governors want to talk about this years games."

"Like the District's Governors?"

The girl leaned her head back and spat out a laugh. "Please. The guys at the Capital Building. They want more info on your ingenious plan to bankrupt the great land of Panem."

"Were you making fun of the President?"

"Of course. You taught me well.

"I could report you for treason."

"And not work for you, anymore? Rat's snacks!" The girl snapped her fingers and twirled on the slick marble floor. She skidded out of the room, leaving a raging Jerome.

He slammed his fist on the desks. Suddenly, he heard a small cracking noise. He looked down at the desk, and a small crack lined the impact spot of his hands. Jerome took in a deep breath. What really annoyed him, outside of the surprise meeting, was the idea that he would have to go across those idiotic government officials who didn't know a thing about devising the Games. It was another jug of water to add to the camel's back. He knew there was no way for these Games to occur without it, though. Rescheduling was out of the question. Everyone moved around President Lanarsus's convoluted roller-coaster of a schedule, not his. If he wanted to keep his job, and, most likely, his life, he was going to have to down a bottle of those migraine pills and suck it up like the decaf coffee his receptionist forces him to drink.

* * *

"Good afternoon, gentleman. I think we know what we are here for. It seems that our esteemed Head Gamemaker has come up with an idea for this year's games." President Lanarsus said.

Jerome rolled his eyes and stood up from the leather seat in the back of the room. The room was a spacious conference room with a grey table stretching between the men in black suits and monochromatic ties. It was on the thirtieth floor of the building. The wind was whistling outside, and the sun lowered to hide behind the Capital skyline. As Jerome passed the piercing eyes of the Board, he whistled an upbeat tune as he patted the Peacekeeper leaning on the door. He stood in front of a large monitor and floated his manila folder onto the table.

"Gentleman, welcome to my Hunger Games. The Twenty Sixth Hunger Games. This one, I promise, will be five times better than that little anniversary party last year. This one...will be amazing."

* * *

**Keep Sending In Those Submissions. Once I have a district covered, I will post that reaping! Apps also in my profile!**


	5. Prologue Part 3: The Reckoning

The board looked at him like he was a dragon with nine heads.

"Alright, lets try that again. This on-."

"Get to the point." A bad member shouted. The other members chatted in agreement.

"Fine. This years Hunger Games are going to be set in space. Are you happy?"

All the members groaned and threw their hands up. One member, however, shouted in excitement and barked out a laugh.

"What? Whats the matter?" Jerome shouted over the ruckus.

One of the members with a receding grey hairline stood up in his pinstripe suit. "We made bets about the Games. No one thought space would win. But guess whose getting a roasted pig from everybody?" The man said.

The rest of the Board shouted out at him. Various exclamations of spite and insults were thrown at him. the room was still with tension freezing the people in their places. When the member sat down, Jerome wiped his forehead. Already, he knew his fears were confirmed. These idiots were just as bad as he imagined. His only way to keep calm was to press on. He would just have to assume control of the Board; a no small feet since they were ultimately as mature as a bunch of five year old children in a large playpen.

"Good for you. Now, on to something you care about. This is gonna be, obviously, the most expensive games ever. And the most technically challenging. Questions?"

A hand raised. Jerome pointed at him. It was a portly man around his middle years. His tie was loosened over his neck.

"Go ahead," Jerome said.

"Can you send Arsenis up there?" The man pointed at the "winner" of the bet. The Board roared into a cascading depth of laughter. Jerome looked and saw all of these obnoxious heads raised in mirthless joy. It made him sick to his stomach. Why was he even trying? Why didn't he just become a news reporter? At least he could deal with obnoxious people that shut up every evening at ten.

"Any real questions?" He said while clenching his fists behind his back.

A man in thick-rimmed glasses cleared his throat. "I see on that picture you passed around that there will be a large station and two smaller ones. How will they be able to travel over to the other?"

Jerome nodded. "There are going to be three, as i like to call them, 'space submarines' that will be used for transport. As you can guess, there will be much fighting for those, considering those stations have an abundance of survival material."

"Speaking of which," the same man said. "What are the conditions going to be like inside the station?"

"Everchanging. The zero-gravity aspect, and weather conditions, will be controlled by us. At a couple instances, we plan on raising and lowering the temperatures to the same ones as outer space and near the sun. The only survival will be temporary space suits, which only have an hour of oxygen in them. There will only be tweve of them, so supplies are still bare."

"And what about the other supplies?" A man from the back asked.

"They will be scattered around the stations. We have mini bio-domes in all three sections. These have the most rewarding supplies, but it is just as dangerous as the rest of the surroundings."

"What other dangers will be present?"

"Let's just say we will have some 'accidental' technical difficulties." Jerome said with a smirk.

"Why would we have technical difficulties? We have the best engineers working for us."

Jerome slapped his thigh. He pointed at the man, shaking in strain. "I meant 'accidental' in sarcastic terms. They're going to be on purpose. We are going to force them to fight and survive. This time, though, will be different. We will make it to the point where they will want to die. Where they will open the doors out of the space lock and just get sucked out into space. Who doesn't like that?"

"Will there be traditional weapons?" The same man asked.

"Of course. And this arena will be different, because there will be quite a few materials in there that can be also used as weapons."

"Like fire extinguishers?" The portly man asked in a high voice. The Board chuckled, leaving a steaming Jerome to grit this teeth.

"Yes." He said. The Board silenced themselves. There was a still cube of silence that entrapped the room. "Any real questions?"

"Will the Kessler Syndrome be involved?" All the heads in the room shot towards President Lanarsus, who had his hands folded in his lap. He leaned back in his chair.

"Actually, yes. I'm glad someone is doing thier homework. Of course, I can't tell you how, but that is the general outline for this thing. And it will all only cost all of your salaries combined."

One of the rotund Board members shot to his feet faster than a strike of lightning. "Wait a minute. We still have questions."

Jerome looked down at his watch. "Actually, this meeting was scheduled for five minutes. It's been seven. Bye."

With that, Jerome wiped his brow and sauntered out of the room, leaving the manila folder filled with papers.

* * *

**So the Rangers lost last night. So now we are down 2 games to 0. I felt like I was going to throw up all night. But it's okay, right. I mean, we can win two games in a row at Madison Square Garden, right? Martin St. Louis will get a hat trick and the Game Winner, right? Right?**

**In more relevant news, I have received a grand total of three tributes. That's not going to fly. if you want to see the most dynamic games EVER, we are going to need a little more support. Posting a list at the moment is irrelevant. **

**Now, I do want to set up a poll. Should there be sponsors in these games. Or, should I give you all at least a little inkling of power? The poll will be on my profile. Otherwise, simply review whether you want it to happen or not. Also, if there are any science geeks out there, tell me whenever I make a mistake. I do want these to be realistic. then again, the very notion of twenty four kids going into an are...okay, I will stop now. **


	6. Prologue Part 4: Danger Zone

Jerome leaned back on his chair. He was cool and collected at the moment. He hadn't been bothered all day. His secretary got him a couple of creams and sugars for once. He was not particularly worried about the Games at the moment. Things were fast approaching for the Games. The reapings were within a week. President Lanarsus's announcing of the special situation was in the next few hours. He just wanted to go home, watch the announcement on television, and take a long bath in his hot tub. It turns out that the Head Gamemaking job paid well.

The glass doors slid open. His secretary walked in, looking the exact same as she did every day. She had her eternal manila folder in her grasp. A stack of papers were sandwiched between the folder.

"You still work here? I thought I fired you." Jerome said.

"Fuck you. I just came here to give you the itenerary for reaping day." She flung the papers towards the desk, letting a few papers sail towards his desk surface. Jerome took a deep sigh. He grasped a piece of paper, and read it.

"So, District Two is going in front of District One? Why?"

"There was a shooting at the location last night. The peacekeepers are cracking down extra hard. They decided to play it safe and do District One later."

"Whatever. I just want this whole thing to get to the games. Do you know ho tired I am? I have been on the run for six months. DO you know how long the Head Gamemaker normally works on the games for? Six weeks. Six weeks to devise a whole plan, and design every aspect. Do you know how much has been on my head. I have to do all of this, then I have to deal with the assholes in charge, you don't bring my sugar ever, and I ha-."

"I brought it to you today?"

"Yes! Because that makes up for the past year," Jerome shouted. "I can barely hide my contempt for everybody else in thsi stupid government, and then, I go home. i turn on the TV and see all of these people that are so happy this is happening. It's hard for me to set all of this up. Nobody has it worse. Not Lanarsus, not the Board, and certainly not any of those kids. I feel like I have an eternal migraine, and the only way for it to end is to fantasize of a life that so closely doesn't resemble hell." Jerome slammed his fists on the desks.

"Well, fantasize in private, please? By the way, I already took the rest of the month off. I guess that comp time is worth something, huh?" She said, raising an eyebrow.

"ANything else you want to tell me?"

"The schedule for the Reapings has been jumbled up. Honestly, we won't know what Districts are going until they start. All we have are the time slots for them. We just don't know what districts will fill them."

Jerome combed back his hair. For some reason, he was not that upset by the fact, he was almost gad something had gone wrong. He thought if he got the bad stuff out of the way now, the Games will go by without a hitch. It was especially important this year to be picture perfect. Hell, if he even mentioned the last few years, a replacement would be sitting at this desk the moment after he finished his sentence.

"Okay, is that it?"

"Bye. And good luck, I guess," she said before strolling out of the room.

Jerome wanted to take the gun in his house and pull the trigger right on his temple. If that were to happen, though, he would rather have it after the Games. He would at least be famous after that.


	7. Prologue Part 5: The Quickening

Jerome sit's at his desk, drumming his fingers on his destroyed desk. His entire office is completely destroyed, an axe resting in his hands beside him. The glass walls are shattered, and al the racks and picture frames are in a giant heap, a pint of gasoline sprinkled on the mound.

Th secretary stands, slightly surprised by the sight. Jerome is as still as a totem pole when she steps over the broken glass, crushing some on her leather boots. She makes it to his desk, which collapses under the weight of the manila folder she flings on it.

"Did the last meeting not go well?" She asks.

"It went perfect. The problem is that I have no idea who the tributes are. The cable, or satellite, or whatever the fuck it is, went out. So I don't know who else is next after District One."

"Was that worth destroying your $50,000 office?"

"Yes. **IT'S AS IF THERE WEREN'T ANY TRIBUTES THAT WERE REAPED OR VOLUNTEERED.**"

"You don't have to yell."

**"I MIGHT AS WELL PRETEND THERE WEREN'T ANY MORE TRIBUTES. THAT'S IT. THERE ARE ONLY EIGHT TRIBUTES IN THESE GAMES."**

The secretary sighed. "Just make sure to leave a not for the custodian. And if you're going to pour gasoline in the office, at least light it. It smells awful."

* * *

**You heard what the man said. I need more tributes. Send them in. Don't be upset if I don't get all 24, though. I will continue onward, regardless. Keep them coming. You can submit up to three anyway. Get your church group involved! Call 911 and tell the operator to send one in! Let's go! the sooner the come in, the faster I can get to the fun stuff.**


	8. District 2 Reapings

**Cadmium Ruse P.O.V**

The long walk to the bus stop from the training center is abysmal. I have to look at all of these silly kids trying to be something better at these Gmes. Mind you, I love the Games. I feel like I have a bit of an obsessive streak. Then again, doesn't everybody in this god-forsaken District have one. Everybody thinks they're so special, don't they? I can't wait to get my hands on on of them and just gut their throats out.

Too bad I can say that out loud. Not because I'm, afraid of being commited to a mental ward, but I don't want to tip people off.

I pride myself on hiding my emotions. I'm a completely different person wherever I am. If I need to be gracious, I'll be gracious. If I need to be focused, I'll be that way. Maybe, though, it's time to stop fighting them. It's time I just go bat-shit crazy. And I know just where that can happen. Riding the bus, a couple of people turn and try to talk to me. Time to turn on my split personality.

"You're gonna train tomorrow?" A kid with a hat asked me.

"No, I'm going to the reaping."

"That starts at noon."

"I don't care. Gotta beat the punch to volunteer. None of these losers are gonna steal my spot." I say with a smirk. The kid nods his head.

"You better watch out. I might just trip you on the way up."

"Try me. I'll make these games my bitch."

The kid returns my sly grin before turning around. I roll my eyes. Sometimes, I feel like I'm speaking a different language. I have to communicate like a hood-rat just to get my point across to people. Hopefully, the Capital is a little more eccentric than this place.

I get off the shining bus, gleaming in the setting sun. The wind slowly snakes its way around teh large houses. I live in a pretty good neighborhood. My dad does a whole bunch of stuff at some company I don't care about. My mom rides his coattails and mingles at all his business parties. i swear, that woman is having an affair. I open our large, oak door. Inside, my mom is climbing down the marble steps in the large foyer. She steps down onto the marble white floor, and I cringe at the sight on the shoulder of her long white shower robe.

"Mother, why is there a cat on your shoulder?" I say as I stumble forward.

Mom pets the orange tabby cat. "I got him at the pet shop by the main square. Sarae just got one, and she said it's done wonders for her heat flashes."

"How would a cat help heat flashes?" I ask in a stern voice. My patience was wearing thinner than the portraits hung on the walls. At least at home, I feel I can let go of my stress and act like I want to. I might be terrible at home, but if that helps from making me explode, then so be it.

"Oh, honey. You don't know about a woman and her hormones." She said.

"And I certainly don't want to know about yours." I say.

She hems and haws before she strolls towards the large den to the left. I sigh and shake my head. Even though they act nice, I can tell that my parents think I'm this big loser. For the moment, they might be right. However, one thing is for sure. That will all change in just a few weeks. Time for a jacuzzi bath.

* * *

**Slate Bedford P.O.V**

I don't know why I always tie back my hair. My folks always say it looks better down, but I think they're lying. Then again, if I had a quarter everytime I thought they were lying, I would be able to buy that Capital.

I just overthink things. Sometimes, i wonder why i can't just accept what someone says at face value. It would make my life a little easier. However, the Games are not easy, and i don't expect them to be. it's a dog-eat-dog world, and I'm gonna put some people to sleep.

Maybe I overthought that last sentence, too.

Walking towards the reaping, I catch a quick glimpse of the morons around me. It's like a carnival. Vendors are selling funnel cakes. Little kids are clutching balloons. The firework show is the main highlight. Outside of the actual reapings. I make it to the main gate, and the lady pricks my on the finger as usual. I don't even need to rush to the front. I know my way around this crowd. Waiting for the actually thing is ridiculous, though. A whole bunch of these people want to actually talk to me. I cross my arms and put on a scowl. I mean business. As you can tell, I don't really care about being sociable. At least I don't pretend to be someone I'm not.

The music starts to blare. The anthem shots out from the speakers, and the crowd is frozen into a reverie of silence. Now, some wacko lady in a rainbow dress and a white cloak walks up. It's about ninety degrees outside, so this lady might be the first casualty from the games.

"Welcome, Ladies and gentleman, to this years reaping for the Seventy-Sixth Hunger Games." The crowd erupts in cheers like a disturbed beehive. I drum my fingers on my sides, waiting for her to just read out the damn names.

"Of course, before we begin, we will watch the excellent tradition of the video." Some people groaned, others cheered. The audience was divided, and I was in the middle, like a monkey.

So, we indulged ourselves into the typical video. It was the same thing. I almost expected it to be a little different, considering all the ruckus happening in the last couple of games. Oh, well. There goes another opportunity of entertaining me. After the stupid video, we get to the main event. The lady walks over in her elevator shoes, and lowers her hand into the bowl like a small feather. She mixes up the bowl, rubbing her hands around the papers inside. I wonder if anybody ever thought of taking out tessearae for the Games. Sure, it would be a little embarrassing. Oh, getting out of focus here.

"Ladies first, of course." She snags a slip of paper, and unravels it. She takes a deep breath.

"Our first tribute is Miss Slate Bedford."

Well, whaddya know? I won't need to fight that hard, after all.

"I volunte-."

My fist feels so good on the cheek of that girl next to me. Again, quite lucky that she was right there. No time to lose, though. I jump over the low gates separating us from the stage. Bolting up the stone steps, I make it to the top. She smiles and gives me a quick hug. My arms limply sway around my side as she lets go of me.

"And our next tribute." The lady goes back to the other bowl and snags another piece of paper. She clears her throat and unravels it. Before she does, she starts to cough. It's a deep hacking, like a dog coughing up some bad treats. She thumps on her throat a few times.

"Sorry. Those E-cigarettes aren't all their cracked up to be," the crowd laughs while I roll my eyes again.

"Our next tribute is Mister Justin Biebe-."

Suddenly, a collective explosion of boys rush to the stage. They're too stupid to remember the gates in front of them, and most of them tumble down like dice. They look like ants crawling over each other from here. Just then, a boy with cropped brown hair breaks away in the riot and reaches the a closer look, he is slightly tanned and has these dark blue eyes. His heart-shaped face lights up in a grin. He was probably in a rush; he's still wearing his training uniform. It fits tightly around his torso, which seems to be showcasing his toned arms and muscles. All in all, he looks pretty good.

Too bad I don't give a fuck.

He makes it up, and let's out a loud whoop.

The lady in rainbow walks towards him. "And who is this dashing young man?"

He leans in towards the microphone with a smile. "I'm Cadmium Ruse, and I'm this years victor."

He takes a quick bow, and he rushed over to me. The idiot grabs my hand and raises it up. It's funny, though. His smile seems to fade, and his eye twitches for just a split second.

Maybe he already knows this isn't all it's cracked up to be.

* * *

**I would like to thank and congratulate luvakatsuki3 and DecidedlyDesteil for having their tributes involved in this story. I am still unsure about sponsoring in these Games. Please comment on whether you think that is a good idea and participate in the poll on my profile. I will see you soon!**


	9. District 4 Reapings

**Paige Parker P.O.V**

I bonk my head on the tiled wall underneath the surface. In my surprise, I gasp, letting in the cool chlorine water flow into my airstream. I shoot my head above the surface, trying to catch my breath. Just my luck. My practice today is clearly not going to work out. I lift myself out of the pool, shivering slightly as I snag a towel from a fold-out chair. I guess I just didn't get ahead of this situation. Get it? Because I hit my hea-. Forget it.

Speaking of large heads, Joe, my cousin, walks over to me from the stands. The pool is somewhat crowded, which is probably understandable. Especially when I realize half of the District is probably related to me. I'm serious, how do we have so many people look exactly alike? That's why I don't want to be with somebody from this district. Accidental incest is a no-no for me.

When he reaches me, he shakes his head and taps me on the head.

"Hello," he says in a drawn-out fashion. "You still have thirty minutes."

I take my towel and wrap it into a tight cone. When I make the cloth tighter than your mom, I whip it right at Joe, striking him on his leg. He shouts out in pain.

"Oops. Forgot that your thigh is bruised." I say with a smirk.

Joe rubs his thigh and grimaces. "Just go home, Paige. I don't wanna talk to you anymore."

"Well, you better enjoy it. One day, we're not gonna have this." I say in a sing-song voice.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that your the best cousin ever, and you should buy me some ice cream." I say.

Joe sighs as he walks toward the exit. I walk with him, draping the white towel around my shoulders. For some reason, I don't feel that good. When Joe asked what I meant, I obviously wanted to avoid what I was thinking. It's just that District Four is considered a career district, and I have been practicing for a while. Many around me wouldn't imagine that I would think about the games so much, but I just have a real tense feeling in my back. I don't want people to think i'm anther basket case; my brother dying in the Games and all. After that I tried to be the exact opposite of other people I didn't want to wallow in my sadness, but I guess I've felt kind of angry since. Then again, being angry is normal for people my age, right?

Maybe I should volunteer tomorrow. I'm tired of pretending to be so happy all the time. I'm so exhausted.

I bet this ice cream will help, though.

Joe gets my favorite root beer float. Not too healthy, but I have a smallish figure, so I shouldn't even think about it. We sit down by the sea, the waves crashing on the white sand as the wind lifted the sea-salt scent around us. It was so comforting, I'll miss it so much.

"So, i heard that old man down the street got arrested for Graffiti." Joe said.

I sputter out the arctic substance back into it's large glass bowl. "Is he insane. I told him to only do graffiti on his own house. So senile."

"You're not shocked about the fact that an eighty year old man does graffiti?"

"Nobody's perfect. I'm sure you'll still be a terrible fisher when your eighty."

Joe scowled. "I'm fine as a fisherman, thank you."

"I was kidding."

"If you admitted you were kidding whenever you actually were, every other sentence you said would be 'i was kidding.'" Joe says while rolling his eyes.

"You're starting to bring me down, Joe. Am I gonna have to tickle you again?"

"I'm not as ticklish as I was before."

"Really? Let's try that out."

I thrust my arm out across the table. Joe flinches and falls back. His head hits the cracked ground, and he lays there on the ground. I get on my hands and knees, and crawl over to him.

"You know, I wasn't going to actually tickle you." I said with a chuckle.

Joe simply flips me off.

It's times like these that make me a little sad. How will I handle it if I have to leave? There's a part of me that wants to give up. To stop fighting my urges and show people just how much negative energy I have. Where would I be if I was just honest with my emotions? Maybe tomorrow, I'll have that break. That shot to finally be free of hiding from myself. I just hope that it doesn't result in me being six feet under.

* * *

**Romeo Caliteo P.O.V**

I'm starting to think that this is not male mousse. Apparently, mousse is only used be females. I don't care. Anything to look my best for them. I spray some more cologne on myself. It might be overkill, but I think it smells great. It's not too fruity, and not too musty. It's the perfect swirl of smooth and classy; just like me.

Excuse me for sounding full of myself. I'm really not. I just like to be honest. That's another thing girls love. I spray the mousse on, and rub it into my blonde hair. Making sure it has my trademark gentle curls, I walk out of the bathroom. When I enter the spacious dining room, my mother is sitting on the leather couch. My brothers are standing by the door, ready to leave. My mom is trying to ignore me, but I know what is going through her mind. You see, this family has a pretty fucked up story. Long story short, my older brother died in the Games. Happy ending, right? Well, turns out, my brother got my mom pregnant, and she got an abortion on the twins she was going to have. Incest isn't something you hear of often, and hell if I was going to let that define who I am.

It's not that I'm trying to be a ladykiller as a facade. That's who I am. Anything to distract from my silly family. Her cooking isn't all that great, either. I take care of most of her motherly duties. She tries hard, but if you can't do it right, don't do it at all.

I walk out onto the busy street. I nod at my brothers, and we go our separate ways. I keep moving through the ocean of people. Suddenly, a girl in front of me has her leg buckle. She starts to fall backwards. Here's a golden opportunity you don't get everyday. I rush over and dip down, scooping her up into my arms. She gasps, and I move my head right to hers. Her blue eyes widen in surprise.

"Hello, princess." i say with a smile. She looks back at me, a light giggle coming from her.

"Hey, there."

I lift her up to her feet. "You know, I just saved your life."

She smirks. "Really? I've taken worse falls."

"Me too. How about this. Since I save your life, you owe me a favor. How about you come find me after the Games, and I'll set something up." I say with a wink.

"You're volunteering?"

"Of course. A man of my stature needs to show off once in a while." I say.

She giggles again. I blow her a quick kiss and leave. That was a little much, but I have to sell it. You never know. I might have a Games romance. It's tradition that every year or so, there is a romance. It was just recently that this tradition kind of almost destroyed the world. Oh well. Can't win them all.

I make it to the reaping area. It's simple enough. Another finger prick, shepherding into the pen like sheep, and a Capitol clown presenting the best blockbuster movie of the year: The video.

After that fluff is done, the guy reaches over to the bowl. He takes out a small slip of paper, and reads it out loud.

"Our first tribute is Miss Miley Cyrus."

"I volunteer."

Damn it. I wish no one volunteered. I knew that girl that was reaped. I really hated her. You might think of this as a surprise, but I actually don't like many of the girls in this district. They're not particularly trustworthy or smart, and most of them seem like carbon copies of each other. None of them have that balance of looks and culture that I crave for. I have tastes. Quite a few of the girls volunteer, but it's a smaller sparrow that snakes through the crowd and tumbles up towards the stage. I guess she seems nice enough. I really hoped that other girl would have gone up, though.

Now it's time to bring some real gentleman class into these Games. The man reaches in again, and swipes a small strip of paper.

"Our male tribute is a Mister Toby Turner."

I don't even bother to shout out my intentions. I bolt for the stage, pushing away a boy my age with short black hair and eyes. I guess he was the one that was reaped. I make it to the steps. After seeing no one around, I slow down. I have to be gracious, make a good impression, and show people that District Four is still king in the looks and gentleman department. I see the smaller girl with blonde hair. She smiles politely. I wonder if she is checking me out. I doubt it, though. She seems a little young, anyway. Regardless, I stroll over to her, and take her hand in mine. I lean down, and give it a quick peck. When I look up, her face is redder than a tomato. Mission accomplished. now, I just need to keep it up for the games. Soon, my family's problems will be a thing of the past.

I just need to relax, focus, and prove that I can be whoever I want. To my district, the Capitol, and my family. I won't be the black sheep ever again.

* * *

**Hannah Montana and Tobuscus. That would be a very weird games indeed. If I do sponsoring, here is a question for sponsor points, which will be retroactively rewarded if I decide to do sponsors. If they were the final two, who would win the Games? Toby Turner, or Miley Cyrus. Please leave your answer in a review, along with a constructive review of this chapter. I need more tributes, folks. Tell your friends, your mom, and your grandma to send them in! Thank you!**


	10. District 11 Reapings

**Xavier thames P.O.V**

My work in the fields is never done. I try to pick the rest of the cotton before sundown, but sometimes it feels like the field gods are against me. I could try something else, but I know that Jonathan will be kind to me. I've been working in this same field for over six years. Here in the District, it seems that working out here is the only productive thing to do. It isn't easy, but it helps out the people in the factories. On top of that, it helps out my family. I don't want to brag about being the only source of money for the family, but we can't eat if it wasn't for this job. At least Jonathan understands.

Speaking of which, he rides up to me on a horse. I take the basket of cotton and show it to him.

"My apologies, sir. I was not able to get the right amount for the day."

Jonathan laughs. "Calm down, son. You've been here too long and work too hard to be whipped for a bad day. Make sure you keep it up next week, though."

I nod and smile at him. "Thank you, sir."

"I know it's a little early to take off, but tomorrow is a special day, so you should be toiling for food at home." Jonathan says.

I say my thanks and depart. I get out of the field and onto the main road. The dust kicks up from the rough wind, kicking up little pebbles around me. As i head out, I walk past one of the small shops by the square. The square is where all the rich folk go for their goods. People think I'm jealous of them, but I'm really not. I'm just glad that my hard work doesn't go to waste. When I step off the curb of the sidewalk, I see a painter on a ladder. He seems to be making a mural of some sort. There are some curvy letters in red paint. It is large, and it looks like it's trying to get me to do something. It might be one of those adv...those things that people use to sell things.

He dips his paint brush in red, but it must have had a slippery handle, because it falls to the floor. He starts to slide down, but I didn't want him to have to walk all the way down. I hustle over and snatch it up from the sidewalk. I look up, and he reaches out for the brush.

"Thank you, son. 'Preciate it."

I tip my straw hat at him. "No consequence to me. You're very welcome."

"Before you leave, you mind doing me a favor?"

"Not at all, sir. I'll help whenever I can."

"Can you step back and tell me if this wall looks right?"

My back tenses up, and I feel my mouth go slack-jawed. I can't tell him the truth. I'm going to have to just see what happens. I hate lying, but I'm afraid of what they'll think of me if they find out. I nod at him and take a step backwards. I squint my eyes from the setting sun.

"I think it looks just fine, sir."

The man smiles. "Absolutely. What I mean is, does the lettering look right? Is it aligned just fine."

"I don't understand. The wall looks fine."

"Well, I always mess up on the 'I.' Can you tell me if that letter is dotted correct and all?"

"No, sir. I can't."

The man furrows his eyebrows. I feel like he is looking right through me, seeing what I'm actually trying to keep from the rest of the world. "You alright, boy? I thought you said you'd help."

I shake my head. My eyes growing a little red like the sky above the wispy clouds. He keeps staring at me. I don't even know why I am so nervous and sad. This isn't rare in this District. It's probably the same for half of the other boys my age around here.

"Go ahead, boy. What's wrong?"

"I don't know which one the 'I' is."

The man and myself just look at each other, separated from each other by this fence built, brick-by-brick, by the very people I help: The Capital.

* * *

**Koring Evans P.O.V**

Why are all of these people still going to the reapings? There is no point in doing it. We're all going to die soon, anyway. So who cares if we just get shot off the street. It already happened to me before.

Alright, not to me. But in front of me. Me and my best friend decided to have sex, and a peacekeeper saw us. Stupid homophobe shot her head off. Anyway, enough about that. Let's just get to these stupid reapings. These need to go by as fast as possible so I can get back to the orchard and finish my quota for the day. That's another thing. Why does everyone have a quota? We're never going to have enough food, so lets just get what we have and be done with it.

Suddenly, I feel someone rush up to me. I have this weird sensation grip my foot, and I whip myself around. It looks like my twin, Hilling, was trying to dunk another cooler of water on me. Heading towards the reapings. When I get back, he's dead.

"Why the hell are you doing this now?" I ask.

"It's the only time I can do something like this and get away with it." He says in a meek voice.

Damn my twin and his insecurities. How could I stay mad at him? It's so hard to stay mad at people, but i do my best anyway. After turning around and dumping the cooler on him, I set myself toward the reaping area. I get the usual prick on the finger. this time, I actually try to sneak past the lady at the station, but a fucking peacekeeper snagged me before I even crossed the dotted line. I hate needles.

I get to the spot, scowling at everybody around me. Good news is that nobody bothers me. That's because I don't need anybody. And they certainly don't need me.

Blah, blah, blah, Capitol idiot. Yadda-yadda-yadda, games video. Stupid reaching in slow motion for the paper. Why does he always go so slow? Why is the world around me so stupid? Most of this stuff is common sense. People don't realize that the stupid things are so easy to fix. Of course, there's the reading of the name. And of course it's my name, and know they walk up to th-."

Fuck me.

I briskly walk to the stage. Like I'm a hit-woman out to kill my targets, and they're all the douchebags standing on the stage. I get up there, and look at the lady. Then, i turn around next to me, where the wall of the courthouse is located. Raising my hand, I smash the grey stone with my fist. Actually, maybe I shouldn't have done that. It hurts like a virgin bitch.

I don't even care what happens next. I check out at the next name. Some ghetto guy walks up in his jean overalls. I roll my eyes when we shake hands. Everything is so stupid. Just let me take in the whole world, all of it's imperfections. At least I can pick them apart.

I will say, there is one good thing. I can finally get my frustrations out. This may just be the release I'm looking for. Or maybe I'll just die. Can't win for losing, can I?

* * *

**Yes, sponsoring is now open. Check it out. **

**The correct answer for the question in District 4 Reapings was: Toby Turner. Sorry, Miley, but twerking powers just won't cut it. Toby has survived quite a few situations, anyway.**

** Time for the question of the chapter! Yay! In Puerto Rico, there is a traditional dish called mofongo. What is the vegetable used to make it? I assume Google will come to the rescue for most. **

**See you soon. And send in more tributes. Get your church groups involved. get that hobo that lives in internet cafes involved. Let's fill this up with people!**


	11. District 1 Reapings

**Satine La'more P.O.V**

"My lord, as I was sewing in my closet, Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbrac'd,No hat upon his head, his stockings foul'd,Ungart'red, and down-gyved to his ankle; Paleas his shirt, his knees knocking each other, And with a look so piteous in purport As if he had been loosed out of hell To speak of horrors- he comes before me."

I expect to hear something. A voice, a glimmer of hope that this production will work out. Graham peers at the paper in his hands, trying to decipher the code of language etched eternally into the literary world. t least, that's how my group leader, Corda, puts it.

"Polonius? Earth to Polonius. You awake there?" Corda marches up to the stage from her usual velvet chair, adjusting her curly milk chocolate hair. She gets to Graham, and taps him on the shoulder. He turns around, adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses. "Graham, take off those silly glasses."

Graham adjusts them on his face. "I need them to see."

I smirk. "No you don't. You just wear them to look good."

Graham gasps. "Nobody asked you, honey."

"Love you, too."

This is probably one of my favorite parts of the day. I live in the theatre. It fills me with all of the great drama and creativity that perspires of high-class and culture. When it comes to art, I've always loved every morsel of it. Even the worst of it has some sort of value in the world. It's nice to know that people still love the alluring atmosphere of a packed house. Enough about philosophy, though. Time to turn on the charm.

"Sorry, Corda. These glasses are just...me." Graham says.

To be honest, the glasses make him look so fake. I don't want to hurt his feelings too much, but those glasses need to come off. I walk up to him with a small grin. My eyes lighten up as i get right up to him, our noses almost touching. I trace my finger around his chest, using my other hand to ruffle his dark brown hair.

"Graham, baby. You don't need those glasses to be you," I lean in closer, whispering. "You're as much of a hottie either way."

Graham rolled his eyes. "Satine, if it was that easy, I would have been your slave a long time ago."

"You practically are. You're so whipped."

"Shut up, Dyno." Graham turns and shouts at a snickering guy backstage.

It's not like fake seducing is something I'm not used to. I do it for real all the time. Let's just say that I'm quite the promiscuous person. It's not exactly something to put on a resume, but I'm not embarrassed by it. In fact, I actually enjoy it. Who wouldn't? Granted, I would much rather be a real actress. I don't need a corner to act; I need the limelight of the stage! If I have to be a complete whore to work my way up, then I guess I'll need to keep taking those birth control pills.

"Calm down, Graham. Everybody, please relax. We need to focus on opening night. Remember the three 'R's' of success."

"Reps, rest, repeat." We all say in unison, like a group of soldiers reciting a creed.

"Exactly. Let's start at Polonius, and finish off the scene from there." Corda says when she moves back off the stage. Before she calls for the next scene, her face lights up. "By the way, I forgot to mention that practice tomorrow is canceled. I hate that we scheduled opening night for this week, but that's how it is. From the top!"

I feel a little worried now. Tomorrow, I planned on volunteering. That may seem like I'm throwing everything I have away, and maybe it is. For some reason, I can't resist it. The glitz of the Capitol, shining spotlights pointed right at me, and the whirlwind of screaming fans all wanting just a glimpse of me. The Games are the ultimate stage, and I feel like I can win. I'm fast, street smart, and, if need be, I'm sure some of the boys wouldn't mind having a little fun during this whole thing. After I win, I won't need to sleep around. Hell, people will be begging that from me. I can live in style, and never look back. Maybe I'll even see my parents over there, and I can stab them with a knife for leaving.

Sorry for the sudden mood change. I'm usually not like that. Time for another quick monologue.

* * *

**Glint Mugg P.O.V**

Poor Mog. He just can't seem to find the bright side of life. Granted, hitting on girls is a forte of his, not mine. My goodness, though. Can't he just leave feather alone? Doesn't he realize that she is not into him? It's not like she's quiet about it. Sitting on the stoop by the reaping area, my and Mog are playing cards with Feather. We have been fine. She doesn't pay to much mind to me, but she hates Mog. Actually, she may just like him, but in a love-hate way.

"Alright, bastard. We need to go to the reaping." Mog says in his low, angry voice.

"Calm down, idiot. We're gonna go. By the way, any of us volunteering?" Feather asks.

"I am. And I'm going to take the world by storm." I say.

Mog rolls his eyes and picks up his cards. We go over to the reaping. Standing in line, I can barely contain my excitement. This is just way to much for me. I've been waiting for this my whole life, and now, I am ready. You may be wondering why I am doing this. I live pretty richly, and my parents like me. My approval rating is high, let's put it that way. I just think that the games are an endless thrill ride. When I get back, I'll be the most popular person in all of Panem easily. It's the perfect plan. All of my training center buddies love me. Hell, the instructors love me. It's only a matter of time before my pedestal is finally finished, and I can sit on it with a throne.

I guess deep down it is a little over-the-top. If I can shoot high, though, I'll at least land somewhere. And why not shoot for the stars?

I get into the pen, and we go through the traditional things. I personally like the video. It hypes me up big time. The tradition of it all is just really fun and thrilling. Nothing like a little reverence before the main event. It amps up the tension. Im not tense, though. I can do this. Everybody is rooting for me. At least, they will be soon.

The lady in drag (or man in drag) reaches into the bowl. I swear, she goes in slow motion on purpose when she does this. She snags a slip, and smooths it out in her pale fingers.

"Our female tribute is Demi Lovato."

A chorus of "I volunteer" sprinkles through the crowd. Now, the rush for the stage begins. The gates smash onto the ground with a clang, and a girl breaks away. She dodges and hops around the mob, and makes it to the stage first. I didn't even see her, and she just appeared in front of everyone. She waves at the crow, giving a quick wink. She certainly looks amazing. Maybe Mog would have liked her, that man-whore. I think her name is Satine.

Now, it's my turn. I warm up my throat, and bounce up and down on my toes. She reaches in, and reads out another name.

"Our next tribute is a Mister Ian Hecox"

A guy next to me with bushy eyebrows and a brown bowl-cut screams and starts to run backwards. Lucky for him there's plenty of testosterone here to cover for his cowardice. I'm not particularly fast, but I can drop some people to make my way to stage. A hop, skip, and a punch later, I'm up there.

"What's your name, dear?" She asks.

"I'm Glint Mugg, and I'll be the greatest tribute ever." I say with a shout.

The crowd goes wild. For just a split second, it feels like I have accomplished something. Something I've always wanted from the day I was born. This whole crowd loves me, and I can't wait for my chance coming up.

* * *

**If you have any suggestions or questions about sponsoring, please let me know.**

**New Question! Who would win in a battle to the death? The teenage inspiration that you can do anything, or the ratchet Pokemon trainer. Demi Lovato or Ian Hecox? Answer in the next chapter. We still have spots for tributes. The middle Districts are all open. Call up your long, lost, biological dad. Ask him to send a tribute in. Get the librarian to send one in. She's not horribly busy, anyway. See you soon! **


	12. District 10 Reapings

**Sirch Lichen P.O.V**

I stand in front of the wooden cottage. The aroma of steaming pumpkin pie and the hissing of a whipped cream can meld with the warm air. I knew I had other places to go, and I did not want to disappoint my friends, but if I was going to come across one of the rare bakeries in the District, I was walking in. Stepping up to the curb, I peek through the lit window. Ignoring the glare of the door, I stroll inside.

it's not like I was a stranger to meeting new people. Honestly, I really wanted to be popular in this place. I guess I do look a little menacing, though. I think it's the scar under my eye. Other than that, I don't have a problem with anybody. Training in the abandoned warehouse also bulked me up a little, so it could be that, as well. You're probably wondering what dimension I live in, where a District Ten guy trains. Well, when I was twelve, I was in this big fight. Since then, I wanted to be able to fight for myself. I really don't want to, but I understand it must happen at some point. It is sad. It's certainly not for the games, though. I just want to defend myself. Only a madman would want to go into the games.

The bell overhead rings, and I stare at an old, frail man walk to the counter. He smiles as I head towards him.

"Welcome, young man. Is there anything I can help you with?"

I nod. "I noticed a sweet noise calling me, like a siren beckoning a sailor to sea. Do you have any pumpkin pie?"

The man smiles wider than the giant ovens engraved in the tan walls behind him. "Have a hankering for pumpkin?" He says as he turns around.

"Only pumpkin. I normally hate vegetables." I say.

"Well, I understand that. Veggies are good for you, though." he says as he rounds a corner.

"I work hard. I need something filling." I say.

"Veggies are filling. It's that, the sweets, or starve." The old man said when he comes back. He has a white package that covers a see-through screen. Inside, is my prize for all my troubles for the day.

"Honestly, I'd rather be unhealthy then die." I say.

The old man laughs. "You got a head on your shoulders, kid. Why are you running around this part of town? I've never seen you here before."

I sigh. "This friend of mine is having a birthday tomorrow, and they needed somebody to pick something up. Pumpkin pie is their favorite."

"And you decided to come over here to get it?" I nod. "You seem alright."

"I try. I usually have a lot on my plate. Especially around this time."

"Everybody does. It's not a happy day." The man said with a sad smile.

If only he knew. I'd like to tell him all about my cousin. If I told him my name, he might actually recognize it. I don't want to sound like a tragic case, mostly because I don't want people to pity me, especially the people that like me. A couple of years back, I was almost reaped. Well, actually, I was reaped. My cousin decided to volunteer for me. Since then, I have a chip on my shoulder. I know I shouldn't. People lose loved ones all the time from the Games. For me, i feel like I can actually do something about it. This might be my one chance to actually do something to prove my worth; to my friends, family, and my cousin.

I feel like this man's brown eyes are reading my mind. Maybe I should pick out my stuff for tomorrow.

"Do you know a good barber around here?"

* * *

**Talon Brock P.O.V**

"Since two plus two equals for, then what does four plus four equal?"

These are the moments that I cherish. I absolutely love the thrill of teaching people. Okay, maybe it's not thrilling, but I feel like I've really impacted people when their face lights up in inspiration. I guess the next generation might not be that bad if people learned more. Especially the Capitol. I know all about the ancient history before all of Panem. They don't really teach about America or it's government. It's a real shame because there was some really neat stuff there.

I guess when it comes to knowledge, I'll do anything. I even broke into this abandoned library on the outskirts of the District. Some people were running an illegal book ring (who knew there was such a thing). I took full advantage, taking out all my money working at the butcher. Over 400 novels, and they are all mine! Harry Potter, Ulysses, Grapes of Wrath. It's like portals into another dimension; one where the possibilities of the mind were endless. i just finished this last novel and actually payed someone to reprint it. It's about this girl named Hazel, and she has to go to this support group because she has c-.

"Seven? No, it's eight." My brother says, lifting up eight fingers.

I clap. "Absolutely. Now, whats three plus three?"

He looks down at his fingers, counting up on hands. "Six."

"Good. Now what's two times two."

Gotcha, brother. He looks completely stunned. I figured that it was time to get him to learn his tables. I'm making sure he is miles ahead of his classmates. He'll be rich, and he won't have to live in this place when he grows up. He sneaks out the answer, unsure of himself as if he was tightrope walking over the courthouse.

"Four?"

"Is that a question, or an answer?"

"An answer?"

I chuckle. "regardless, you got it right. So, what's three times three."

With more confidence, he sits up straight in his chair. "Six."

I shake my head. "Sorry sorrito. The answer is nine."

Another thing I like to see is when someone is completely dumbfounded. Their faces are priceless. It makes me feel like there is hope for others, especially when the clamor for the answer like they are drowning and need air.

Before I can start the lengthy (and complicated) explanation, a knock is heard at the door. I look at the clock hanging on the yellow wall. Just as I expected. I let out a deep sigh, smiling at my brother.

"Sorry. I'm gonna have to go. I'll be back in about an hour."

"No! I need to know how it's nine. Where are you going, anyway?"

"You know where I'm going. I'll be back soon. In the meantime, be a normal kid and play catch outside or something."

I hug my mom waiting outside and I walk down the busy street. I get lost in the large mob of people heading towards the reapings. I look over at a specific group of people. They are chatting with an air of leisure while marching down the concrete street. I'll be honest. I'm not exactly a well known figure in the District. People have talked behind me, talking about me being weird. It does make me a little upset. I wish people weren't as mean sometimes. I don't really know why that is the case. I guess they just find me weird. I don't look weird. I do't think I act weird. So what if I eat candy corn all the time? So what if I hum all the time? I guess I'm a little to headstrong as well. If I get reaped, though, confrontation is good in the Games. Who knows? I might fit in.

I get to the line of death. Also known as the finger pricking line. It actually goes faster than usual. Maybe this won't be so bad after all. I might have time to help wrangle some of the cattle after all. By the way, I'm a cowgirl, and proud of it.

Some guy in a bright pink fluffy coat stands up under the blaring sun. The crowd's buzzing dissipates into a cloud of silence hanging overhead like the crows swimming in the sky. He does the usual introductory statements, and then we watch the video again. It's a shame i don't have my lucky popcorn kernels. I could throw them at the screen. Just kidding. They're lucky bird seeds.

Now, on to the show. The guy shuffles towards the bowl for the tributes. Sliding his hand inside, he rips out a piece of paper. He seems to slow down on purpose, trying to bring the suspense to a boil. Just hurry up so I can get home.

"Our first tribute is Talon Brock."

I feel like the imaginary walls of air around me are squeezing me, causing my insides to explode. The crowd points their heads towards me. Since when does anybody know about me? I'm just some ranch hand that likes reading. I guess I'm a decent runner, but I can't run through the Games. Wait a minute. Why not me? I suddenly feel a little calmer as I sneak my way towards the stage. I look around, seeing all the boys and girls. Al of these people are the future of this District. Maybe there is a reason why I was picked. I could be the one that makes this place better. Even if I die, I will have made an impact anyway. I just saved some poor twelve year old kid from dying. I can take some comfort in that. That doesn't mean I'm not screaming on the inside, but my head feels a little lighter. That might not be a good thing, though.

I make it to the stage when I get enveloped by the walking sauna of a Capitol man. He smells like sweat and moldy cheese. The rest flies by me like the wind through my hair. Some kid named Sirch walks up. He has shaggy black hair complimented with chocolate eyes. We take our bows, and then we head off to an inevitably tearful goodbye. This might be the worst part.

I know that, beyond it all, I've at least made a difference for somebody.

* * *

**I NEED MORE TRIBUTES! I NEED TO FILL UP AT LEAST ONE DISTRICT IN ORDER TO CONTINUE ONWARD. I CAN'T DO JUST ONE TRIBUTE PER DISTRICT! Please send more in. **

**Also, I have made some changes to sponsoring. Inflation has occurred, which will be addressed soon. That way, sponsor points are a little more valuable.**

**What was the book I referenced (the one referenced not by name)? **

**Again, I need more tributes. Send them in! See you tomorrow!**


	13. District 12 Reapings

**Venus Whitmore P.O.V**

"Venus! Why are you playing the drums now?"

I stop my rampant beating on the hollow instruments. I'm in the Sleepy Hollow restaurant, and I was a little bored I decided that the drums up on the stage were a worthy addition to this grey place. Everything about it is bland. The oak bar in the corner, the plastic circular tables, and the grease-stained booths jutting out of the walls. If it wasn't for this stage, nobody in their right minds would ant to eat here. Now, his is the place in town to be.

Nothing was going on here today. Even my tea was awful, and they are usually good with that. I decided this place needed to be more lively. I guess my drum solo isn't welcome at the moment. It doesn't help that I don't know how to play the drums.

"I thought you guys liked my drum playing." I say with a puppy face.

My best friend ever, Dove, face-palms as she approaches the small stage. "That's only for Friday nights. Do I have to kick you out again?"

I hem and haw. Dove never kicks me out. Nobody for that matter. They know how valuable I am to this place. Not only do I spruce it up for busy days, but I even catch some of the food for them. The shipments for food are usually slow, so we need some extra chickens and turkeys. How do I catch them? If I told a Peacekeeper, they'd probably shoot me on the spot. Yes, you thought correctly. I am an archer. Before your highness Miss Everdeen, archery was a no-no in this District. Now, it is even more of a no-no. However, everybody wants to be one now. I'm glad I hopped on this bandwagon a long time ago with my late dad. Bless his soul.

I lean back on the leather stool. Me and Dove enter a staring contest. This is something we normally do. It's fun to see which one of us breaks first. Of course, she does. We both burst out laughing.

"You got to stop drum playing, though," she says after recovering.

"I figured. Can I at least do something to loosen this place up?"

Dove looks over to her manager. The man with the long beard (accompanied with a hairnet) nods at her. Dove turns around and sighs.

"Go for it."

I reach down into my back. I have a nice, fold-out bow. I take the small collection of arrows in my green backpack and scatter them out behind the drum set. I take one, and hold it up with my arrow.

"Excuse me, ladies and gentleman," I shout. Everybody turns and looks at me. I wave back at them. "If you don't know me, which you probably do, I am Venus, and I am going to do a little stunt. Do you see that dart board over there?" I pointed at the board lined with darts. The red target in the center screams for attention. "Watch as I, the amazing Venus, shoot an arrow through this air reeking of despair and poverty, and puncture that little target."

I raise my bow and take a black arrow in my other hand. I slide the arrow into the bow. This is what I live for. Okay, maybe not. However, his is my favorite time of day. I take a long breath, and I capture it in my windpipe. I squint my eyes slightly, and I let the lights above guide my path towards the target.

Too bad the dartboard isn't my target.

At the last second, I whip myself towards a table in the far corner by the bar. I let the arrow pierce the room like a hawk diving in the sky. It cuts through the thick, moist air before crashing into a roasted turkey. When it hits the main course, the arrow lodges inside it and pushed it towards the wall. The entire turkey sticks to the wooden boards behind it, hanging like one of the Peacekeeper recruitment posters on the walls outside. The lady at the table creams, and the man dives under the table. The entire restaurant is shuttled into a standstill. My goodness. They act like somebody just died. I did catch that turkey, so It's not like it's going to waste.

A small ripple of claps emanate through the large room. Even the terrified couple have to applaud. I take a quick bow, before gathering my things. Dove's manager isn't a huge fan of me, but he has to admit, that was a smooth shot.

I like to be independent. That also means that I like to do these kind of brash, awkward things. Why? Not only does it make other people happy, but it helps me get through my day. Like many, I haven't had the greatest life. But I don't need the greatest life. If times like these keep happening, maybe I'll be just fine.

* * *

**Joshua "Josh" Adams P.O.V**

Walking to the reapings is never fun. I especially don't like it when it's with my friends. I get a little sad, but mostly, I'm just annoyed at all of these people. They look so glum. Then again, even if they were happy, I guess I would still be quite stoic. That's just me, I guess.

"Josh? Are you alive there?"

Michael Polginski. My friend since I was seven years old. What could I say about him without being beat up? Probably nothing, considering all I've said to him.

"I am alive, you asshole. Stop yelling in my ear."

"Asshole? I'm just making sure your alright."

"That doesn't mean you're not an asshole."

"I'm not an asshole. You wouldn't like me otherwise."

"You are an asshole, but your a good asshole. That's why I like you. Actually, thats a terrible reason. I don't know why I like you. Could you remind me again?"

I don't try to hide my emotions or thoughts from others. I don't want to live my whole life in fear of what others will think. I'm not flat out rude, but if somebody needs the baton of truth busted on their heads, then I will gladly be able to assist.

"You gonna go to Sleepy Hollow later on?"

"Why would I go to that grease ball?"

"Because they're the only place with decent food?"

"They're the only place with turkeys. Bathed in grease, mind you."

"You don't like their food."

"It's arthritis on a plate. Why do you think so many people die in this place?"

"I could come up with a few reasons."

We make it to the reaping. I get my finger pricked, trying to mask my grimace from the needle. I have to much pride to let a little needle take me down. I get herded into the eighteen year old pen, shuffling my feet around the strangling heat outside. They really need to do the Games in early April or May. This is getting ridiculous.

"Prepare to die, Josh." Michael says.

"Better me than you. You wouldn't last ten second in the Games."

"And you would?"

"Probably not. I have to stay positive, though. People can smell fear. Or at least you. When was the last time you showered, again?"

Michael flips me off. I smirk just when the blaring trumpets make me jump up in surprise. The anthem starts playing, and I turn around to see the stage. A few people are sitting on wooden chairs, and the blue podium on the side is standing by one of the large screens. After the anthem, a lady in pink and white frilly clothes walks up. She starts to speak in the normal Capitol accent. A high-pitched squeal that reeks of wealth and disdain for the "simpletons" of District Twelve.

"Welcome all to this years Hunger Games reapings. I hope you are all as excited about these games as I am. This will be the most exciting, amazing games yet."

Couldn't be as fun as the last two. I'm this close to saying that out loud.

"I guess we should get on wi-. Oh my goodness. I almost forgot the video."

I groan. Oops, I probably groaned too loud. A whole bunch of people around me stare in shock towards. me. I look around, hoping no Peacekeepers heard that. Fortunately, they seem none the wiser. Fast forward through the same old video, and we get on with the show. The clown reaches towards the bowl, and swiped a piece of paper. Time for someone's fate to be squelched to the ground like the bugs covering the streets in the seam.

"Our first tribute is Venus Whitmore."

The girl is surprisingly composed for being reaped. I see she's breathing very hard like she just ran a mile. She has light brown hair and is quite pale. She has a nice, curvy body, though. Sorry, but I'm a hormonal teenager, too. Actually, she looks just a little like that other girl from last year. I can't say her name. Those idiot Peacekeepers would kill me the moment that name left my lips.

She gets to the stage, clearly putting on a brave face. Good for her. Now it's time for the next tribute. The lady, mauling the stage in her high heels, leans towards the other bowl, and she unravels the paper.

"The male tribute this year is Joshua Adams."

Sometimes, I feel like my life is playing in slow motion. The world around me stops, and I can just take a step back and examine everything. The screaming of my name where my mom is located. Michael's shouting at me. The crowd splitting apart for me to walk up the stone steps. The smile of the lady towards me, and the suffocating hug she gives me. Then, the blank look Venus gives me as I go towards her on the stage.

I'm freaking out a little, but I think that is mostly from the pleas of my family. If they didn't care, it would make things a whole lot easier. For some reason, I don't feel as upset as I thought I would. I'm not uncaring, but I feel more sedated. I don't know about Venus but I know something for a fact. I won't let these Capitol freaks bring me down. I promise to myself, my stupid friends, and my melodramatic family that I will return. I will do myself justice, and prove that I am worthy of living.

I can do this. If I don't believe that, then I will die.

When I get back, I'm killing Michael. His irony just had to work for once, didn't it.

* * *

**Please refer to my tribute list in the first chapter. Get anybody you can to fill out the application. I have to fill up at least one District before I can continue. Worst case scenario, it's been like a week, and I don't have all 24. In which case, I may just cut it off there. Let's not let that happen. Keep them coming. **


	14. District 3 Reapings

**Arlyne Hunter P.O.V**

The blue painting leaps out at me like a frog jumping from a brook. It's a painting of a dark sky, swirling with yellow orbs and curves tracing the outlines of the small town below. On the top right corner, the moon shimmers in a crescent over rolling hills. I turn around to a man next to me.

"Excuse me, sir. What is this painting called?"

The man in a tight blue vest and a yellow construction hard hat turns towards me. He's clutching a brown coffee mug, making the smell of mocha swirl with the melancholy colors of the painting. He stares at me.

"Honey, what are you doing here? This area's is an electrical hazard."

I forgot that this place was restricted. I need to hurry and come up with something fast. The Peacekeepers aren't very kind to people that trespass on places. Especially these kind of high-tech industrial areas. Wouldn't you know it? The one time I do something a little devious and I get caught. Then again, what exactly was I planning on doing? I shouldn't have done this. I can't get out of this. Why am I so stupid?

"I'm interning here," I lean over and read a name on the time cards stacked on a rack by the wall. "Kevin told me to drop off the faxes to the front office. I was just really absorbed by this."

The man turns around to Kevin's office. The blinds are drawn, and the lights are shut off.

"Kevin isn't here." He says.

"He's out for lunch. He told me to take off after I did this last thing for him," I say.

"Honey, I'm not going to do anything. You know Reline?"

"I met that girl last week."

"I'm her father. She got an 'A' on her test because of you. At least, that's what's she said. I'm not going to report you."

I sigh in relief. This District can be really cold at times. I'm glad that my good deeds have some perks to them. That's not why I do them. I'm happy that I can do something that actually makes somebody's lives better. It makes times like these even better since it helps make my life better. I wouldn't have nearly what I have if I didn't pay my good fortunes forward. Like this instance, for example.

"Thanks, sir. Do you know this painting?" I point back to it.

The man looks back towards it, adjusting his glasses as he peers at it. "This painting has been here for as long as I've been working here. I never really paid attention to it. This painting is around a lot of places."

"Really? Why haven't I seen it around here?"

The man laughs. "This place isn't exactly known for it's high art. Or at least, not that kind of art."

I shake my head. It figures that people would try to get rid of stuff that can make people's lives easier. I guess a painting is impractical, but then why make them? Doesn't the Capitol want the districts to be better? Then, stuff like last year wouldn't happen as much.

The man sees my sad look, and he pats me on the head. "Don't worry. You at least know about it."

I smile softly. "Do you know what it's called?"

"The painting? No idea."

"Then who made it?"

"Don't know. I think it was some guy from the Capitol. That town is supposed to be when it was first being built. The mountain is the ones around it."

"It makes sense. This is a really dark painting. It reminds me of winter. Snowfall always made me kind of sad for some reason. Maybe the Capitol is like that. It's a snowfall that doesn't end."

The man turns back at me. "You know what I see?"

"Yes?"

"A girl who's trespassing," He says with a smirk.

I assume I have to take my leave. I turn around and run out of the building, passing by the shouting receptionist at the desk, and the foremen drilling by some sparking wires. The sky is always cloudy and murky in District Three. That sums up why I don't like this place. The only real time for sunrise is when it sets. I hope that, one day, these workers will stop and realize that the sun is around for a reason. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for it. It deserves to be seen, and to warm up any harsh winter ti comes across.

At least I have my chess tournaments to fall back on. I do amazing in those.

* * *

**Jacob "Jay" O'Connor P.O.V**

Holy shit, that reaping was tough.

I'm sitting in a room in the courthouse. It is a flowery room. The chairs are a hot-pink that cover the brown carpet with dustballs rolling from the fan above. A large mirror is hanging on the crimson walls above the hazelnut couch. The air conditioning is broken. I know this because it's making a high-pitched squeal that vibrates through the visible vents shaking above me.

I am pretty scared about what is happening. I think my family is making this worse for me. If I was all alone, things would be a lot easier. I would go in, do my time, and see what happens. I feel sad as well. I feel bad for all those times I didn't cherish. The times of peace and bonding that I cast aside from my family because I was too cool or strong to deal with them. I wish I could tell them how bad I feel. Of course, I have the opportunity to do so when they break through that door, tears flowing down their cheeks. I also know that I won't tell them this. I need to be strong.

When my parents come in, I stand up and let them crash into me. They wrap their arms around me, pulling me as close to them as possible, like they can shield me from the horrors that will follow me into the Games. Oddly enough, they're not crying. I think they understand that all of our emotions need to be toned down. There will be plenty of time to break down by ourselves.

"Are you okay, honey?" My mom asks.

I sigh as I return her hug. "I'll be fine. I can do this."

My dad ruffles my hair as we break apart from the hug. "It's okay to be afraid, Jay."

"It's okay, dad. I'll survive. Literally."

"Jay? Are you in shock?" My mom asks.

"Maybe I am. I'm staying calm."

"Good," my mom puts my head in between her hands. "You can do this. You have so many people that are supporting you."

That makes me feel a little better. Then again, if I have to compare my misery to others to feel better, then I'm in the wrong place in my life. They are right about one thing. Okay, more than one thing. Support is important. I have something to come back to. That's more than a lot of people in other districts.

"Remember what you've seen on TV. Don't be afraid to use your smarts. Ninety percent of the time, that's who wins. Not the one that kills the most. Be good on camera. Dress properly, and don't make any enemies."

"That's a tough one, mom. Making enemies is the Games."

My dad pats me on my shoulder. "When you get on that train, take it all in. You're gonna be on a long ride through this whole thing. We are all here for you."

I have to smile at that. My eyes are starting to sting a little. I blink faster than the swinging fan above. I need to keep things close to my chest from now on. If I start tearing up, I won't stop.

I step ahead and give them one more hug. "Thank you. I won't let you down. I'm sorry."

"For what, honey? You have nothing to be sorry for."

There are so many things I'm sorry for. I like to think that my parents will forgive me for that. That they already understand what I mean. When the Peacekeepers come in, I buck my shoulders up. It's time to be brave. It is time to survive and conquer.

* * *

**Question Of The Chapter. What was the year when the first twerk was ever performed on television? Also, please spread word on these games. They will be worth the wait!**


	15. District 6 Reapings

**Monette Zacharias P.O.V**

The yellow boomerang massages my hand like the crisp air funneling around me. The cloudy sky hovers overhead like the ravens hanging on the power lines. I turn my arm towards my chest, and the boomerang flies out of my hand. It joins the dancing green leaves in the grey sky. Spinning like a fan in the air, it starts to find its way back towards me. As it starts to descend, a knife nicks it in the air, causing the boomerang to fall to the ground. The knife plunges towards the grassy knoll, lodging itself into the soft dirt.

"I knew it wasn't going to stick."

I turn around to Caz, who is running towards one of his throwing knives. I think that he is an excellent thrower. He might even be the best in the District. Knives aren't exactly used for throwing around here. It makes him more special. My relationship with him has always been close after we first met. My parents aren't around anymore. My dad left a long time ago, and my mom is sick in the head. That's what the doctors told me. I moved in next door to Caz. I was outside playing with my boomerang when I was six. _ was outside, throwing cards. For some reason, he thought it would be funny to throw the card at the boomerang. He actually hit it. I was amazed. Since then, I've upgraded to a larger boomerang, and he has moved towards knives.

When he snags his knife from the ground, he groans. "I just polished this, too."

I start to sign at him. I can't speak to others. That's right. I'm a mute. Nothing wrong with that. It just makes me all the more different. Sadly, Caz, despite being my best friend, is not necessarily the smartest crayon in the box. He sighs, and rolls his eyes.

"How long have we known each other, Monette? You know I don't understand that."

Poor Caz. For as fun and nice as he is, he just doesn't catch on. I take out the small notepad in my jean pocket. Pulling out a black pen, I write down my message. I show it to him.

"What's this say? 'It's okay. I brought polishing wipes in my boomerang case.' Thanks. Glad one of us thought ahead." He says with a smile.

I smile back and go to my case. He takes the brown wipes away from the container in my case, and he starts to rub the knife. The dirt is peeled off, and the knife returns to a crystal sheen. I don't want to say that I'm the brain, and he is the brawn. At the end of the day, we just...work with each other. Maybe I'm just grateful for him. I don't have very many friends, but I know that people will be less caring about what you are when I grow up. I bet in a few years, this place will judge me for who I am instead of what I am.

Caz starts to walk back towards the small, white house. "I think we should head in. It's gonna rain soon."

I nod and walk in with him. His parents like me. I'm glad I'm surrounded by people that don't care about something as small as being mute.

**Casmond "Caz" Indianno P.O.V**

When I meet Monette outside of my house, I give her a quick hug. That's normal for us. We release each other. The bright sun rises over us, looking down at the mass of people scurrying to the reaping.

"Are you sure you'll be fine?"

She nods and gives me a soft smile. Her presence has always calmed me down. I get riled up pretty easily. My mom say it is because of something called ADHD. My dad says it was normal, and he acted like that all the time when he was a kid. My mom said "that explains a lot" and left it at that.

I walk with her down towards the square. Monette takes out her notepad. I stop as soon as she reaches for her pocket. The moment she does that, I need to pay attention. She is that kind of person that uses every word like they're the most important thing in the world. I don't pay attention to other people very much, but she is special. I don't have a crush on her, okay? She just happens to be my best friend that is a girl. Nothing wrong with that. Not. A. Crush.

She writes down "Shouldn't we take a bus?"

"No. The less time spent at that place, the better."

She nods, and we keep walking with the other people to city hall. There, people are in line to get to the different places for the different ages. Even though, we are both twelve, I hate that we have to be separated. It makes me more and more anxious.

I reach down and squeeze her hand. "By the way, happy birthday. Sorry we can't celebrate till later."

She smiles back at me and gives me a thumbs up. She is calmer than me right now. I know that much.

This is my first reaping. Hers, too. I'm an absolute nervous wreck. I know the odds are small, but I don't know what I will do if something happens. I need to pay attention, and hang on every word. I need to do this to calm myself for the next few years.

So, this old, wrinkly lady in a large pink trench coat walks up to a brown podium. She thanks us for coming to the reapings (as if we had a choice) and she presents the video. The video is interesting. It shows the reason for the Games, and it shows the destruction of the first and latest rebellion. It is loud, and kind of scary. When it ends, the crowd is as silent as my street at night.

The lady says that it is time for the tributes to be announced. I need to relax. There are so many people that could be picked. I'm just a drop of water in an ocean. That's what my mom told me before I came here. She reaches into the bowl, and reads out the name.

"Our first tribute is Monette Zacharias."

No. This can't be possible. There is absolutely no way this can be happening. If only I could hear something. A scream. A cry. Anything to prove that this is not my _. I mean, _. Forget it. I do have a crush on her. I can't lose her. Somebody, please volunteer. See what she is getting into. There has to be a way for her to get out of this. She's shaking, in tears as she is dragged up by the Peacekeepers. I can't shout. I need to stay strong for her. i need to believe that she can do this.

There is another possibility. I can help her. Not by sponsoring, but by protecting her. I throw that idea right out the window. There is no way I can take on the careers. Should I just leave her to die, or should I try and do something about it?

"Now, let's see what dashing man will represent District Six."

"I volunteer."

I don't even feel like a person anymore. I feel like I am floating in mid-air. It's that weird place where I don't think I'm thinking. I know I'm just a kid that doesn't pay attention or make sense, but my life has just taken the worst turn. I'm crying worse than Monette as I get shoved to the stage by the peacekeepers. When iI get up to the stage, I run over and hug her, like she is about to leave forever without me.

At that moment, I know I have to grow up. I need to act like I'm older. I need to be there for Monette. If I can't come back and throw knives at her boomerang, then I'll make sure she can come back to see that grassy hill again. I promise.


	16. District 5 Reapings

**Cyrene Polymer P.O.V**

I smile at the picture etched into the lined paper in front of me. This is going to be perfect. When I grow up, the whole world will never be the same. I'm surprised no one has ever thought of this idea before. This could save so many people from the dangers of everyday life. Whatever the Capitol believes in, I'm sure they would certainly like more people in their population. More people means more money, right?

Okay, maybe not always. In fact, overpopulation is a major problem in a whole bunch of other districts. Here, our biggest problem is class diversity. The rich are very rich, and the poor are very poor. We have more rich people, considering we are the heart of Panem. Think about it. We control the power of the nation. All of our plants are pumping electricity at maximum speed. Speaking of which, that's another problem: underpaid employees.

I know for sure I have a solution that can fix this.

At school, we have a project in class where we present a problem that needs to be solved, and our solution to it. People are going to pick something silly like feeding their dogs or fixing a flat tire. I'm going for something I think everybody can agree on. Now, our teacher is really cool. She doesn't have a problem with open minds and dark sarcasm in the classroom. I don't have to worry about being shot by anybody.

I sit down at my wooden desk. Our classrooms are decent enough. The walls are cold white bricks, and a Panem flag graces the wall behind the whiteboard. My teacher stands by her desk, leaning on it with a coffee mug in one hand.

"Alright, everybody. Your presentations are due today, so who would like to go first."

I might as well be bored after my presentation. I raise my hand, clenching it into a fist as it goes up.

"Cyrene."

I rush up to the stage, and I unravel the poster I brought from home. I stick it up on the whiteboard. Clearing my throat, the speech begins."

"From the very beginning of Panem, we have always asked one question: who should take care of our government?"

At this, my teacher chokes on his hot coffee. I need to keep my calm.

"For many years, this question has been answered exclusively from the Capitol. They have controlled, devised, and organized every event ever held in District Five and other places. While this benefits the high class due to their pandering towards the Capitol (come on, people. The rich totally love the Capitol)," My teacher again chokes on his coffee. If the lady doesn't want me to speak, just say so. "The poor are on the bad end. The middle class barely exists. Because of this, and the obvious events of the last year, I think it is time for a major overhaul. It's time for us to stop living in the dark ages, and rise up as the greatest place on Earth."

My class is shooting the weirdest looks of confusion at me. I feel like I'm insulting everybody and there mom with how their gazes are pointed at me.

"Ladies and Gentleman, I present the Republic of Panem," I gesture towards the poster behind me. "I have this map behind me to present the core ideals of this new system, and how it will help. First off, a republic is where we, the people, effect the government indirectly by electing, that means voting, for the people in the government. Instead of the Capitol choosing the people in the government, we do. We will call them representatives. We elect them, and they go to the Capitol to represent us. The reason this works is because we can make sure that the people we vote for not only have our best interests at heart, but they also have the same beliefs and ideas we have. The numbers under the District on the map are the number of representatives we will have. The number depends on the amount of people living in the District."

I take a deep breath. The rising sun outside is blinding my vision. Even nature is against me getting my message across. I knew I should have worn sunglasses to school today.

"For instance, District Five has around 200,000 people. So, we will have around a representative for every 10,000 people. That means we get twenty representatives. When they get to the Capitol, they get to vote on laws and plans to make Panem a better place, as well as their own districts."

The class keeps looking at me. It seems like everybody's back is as straight as a board. The air is thicker than the power plant transforms across town. My teacher claps her hands once, and moves next to me.

"Very well done presentation. You can tell a lot of effort went into this. Any questions for Cyrene."

A hand shot up.

"When you say vote on laws, why wouldn't President Snow do that. I thought he passed the laws."

I nod. "Actually, I've also thought of something, too. Where the President and the representatives are equal. That way, nobody has supreme dictatorship in Pa-."

"Darn, but I'm so sorry. The five minutes are up. Thanks, Cyrene, and you'll get your grade first thing tomorrow. Who wants to go next?"

As I take my poster and roll it back up, I have a deep smile on my face. I know that I'm too young to do anything now, but just getting my ideas out makes me so giddy like when I went to work with my dad one time. It taught me a lot about what people work with, and how much they work. I think that's where the roots to my plans come from.

Give me about ten years. If Panem isn't changed by then, I'm ready.

* * *

**Timas Etienne P.O.V**

There is something very calming about the walk to the reapings.

As I pace by myself towards the town square, I separate myself from the large sea of people. Instead, I walk on the edge of the street that is lining the small park. In the middle of the towering power plants and bustling hardhats, this park is the best thing about this District. The calm wind shapes the tree branches that tickle the shadows underneath it. The short grass pokes at me as I sit underneath the tree's protection from the sun, pouring my soul into a book.

Remembering all of these things, I sigh and travel past the park. These reapings are always tough on me. The worst part is that, if I was ever reaped, I wouldn't ever be by any of the parks or nature that is sporadic enough in this place. I guess that's just the hand I was dealt with. Even though I would be poorer, I would love the forests of District Twelve. I wouldn't even mind the mountains.

I feel like a sore thumb, standing in this stretching line. Being my first reaping, I'm not quite sure how this works. I don't want to know how this works, though. I want to be away from these people and sit in the shade once again. I get my finger pricked, and it actually hurts more than I thought. i don't really need any physical ailments. I have a hard enough time keeping my breath as is with my asthma.

I stand in the back of the crowd. The sooner this is over, the quicker I can get out of here. I don't pay very much attention to all of the brouhaha of the ceremony. Some guy stands up, shouts out a few things, and we see the video. I've heard about this video, and I must say, it is disappointing. I've read the history of Panem, and I don't believe any of the fluff here.

The man goes to one of the bowls, and he takes a piece of paper. Here goes nothing.

"Our female tribute is ."

A short girl with long, flowing brown hair trembles as the Peacekeepers help her up the steps. Poor girl. My heart goes out to her. I hate to be selfish, because I'm not. I just want to get away from these people. Actually, I wouldn't mind someone talking to me. I want friends, but I must be to weird or boring.

"Our male tribute is Timas Etienne."

I am quite timid. It must stem from my weak heart. Genetics just didn't work out for me. I got it from my mom. Hold on a second. Why are those Peacekeepers coming towards me? Why are they dragging me up? Why am I hyperventilating?

I'm going into the Games.

I'm the last person that should be going into the Games.

I have tears in my eyes. I can't see anything through this window of saline. As I hug the girl, I bury my head in her shoulders. Any place but this. Anywhere but here.

My goal has to be to return here. I haven't finished my book. I haven't finished sitting in the small park by the green river.

* * *

**Thank You ladies and gentleman. I only have one or two spots left. Who is ready for the training sessions. I'm not doing the train ride. I'm seriously considering dropping the chariot rides as well. I have a poll on my profile asking for who the favorite character is so far. I know this is way to premature, but that is the question of the chapter. Everyone who votes gets 10 sponsor points. Check it out!**


	17. District 7 Reapings

"Edeth, could you pass me asparagus."

I sit at the dinner table. My twin sister, Edeth, is sitting across from me in her wooden seat. Everything in our house is wooden. It's a large house, but my dad prides himself on his woodworking. I think it is quite self-absorbed. Even if he is great, which he really isn't, he should just sell more of the stuff away. I'm not materialistic or anything. I like to think of the big picture. People wouldn't think this, but I do care for the greater good.

"What about the greater good?"

I forgot all about Aaron. Aaron, Aaron, Aaron. My favorite boy toy that isn't my boy toy. We have been best friends for so many years. Ive always looked at him as a brother. Sometimes, I do wonder what we would be like if we were together in that way, but I don't think I could have a relationship with him. I don't want to ruin what we have. Also, I'm currently dating Nathaniel. Although, cheating with Aaron would be a pretty hot idea.

Did I mention that he has great hearing? I should stop muttering to myself.

"Nothing. i was just talking to myself," I say.

"I got that, but what were you saying?"

"I don't have to tell you that."

"She was probably talking about how noble she was or something like that," Edeth says.

I slam my hands on the table. "Why are you my twin?"

My mom points at me. "Eva-Marie, do not shout at the table."

"I have to shout. Nobody has passed me the asparagus."

"I'm eating the asparagus." Aaron says.

"Then stop eating it and give me some."

"If you want it, you need to come and get it," he says.

Aaron is a really sweet and lovable guy. He can be a real asshole sometimes, though. I stand up and reach over his head, where the white plate of asparagu is held. He keeps shifting his arm, moving the plate in a circle. He is taunting me. I've had enough. Time to pull out the charm. I climb onto his lap, and he freezes up. He's always been a little timid when it comes to females. Even if they adore him, he just doesn't have that confidence yet. While he is stuck, I snatch the plate and return to my seat. Grinning, I pile the green vegetable onto my full plate. We very rarely have to worry about food. We are quite wealthy. This is the richest neighborhood in the District. Aaron lives next door.

"Can you remind me again why you're not dating Aaron?" My dad asks.

"I don't know either. Explain, Eva." My twin commands.

"I'd like to know, too." Aaron says,breaking out of his comatose state.

I sigh before draining the water in my glass. Setting it down, I wipe my mouth with my forearm. "Aaron is like a brother to me. Incest is something I'm not interested in."

"But it wouldn't be incest," my dad retorts.

"Nathaniel is a perfectly fine boyfriend. Rest assured, if this doesn't work out, Aaron will be right here waiting for me."

"What if I'm not?" Aaron asks.

I roll my eyes. "Please. You've been crushing on me since we were seven."

"It would help if you were ugly. Maybe you should try that." Edeth says with a smile.

"Anything to not look like you," I say with a sly grin.

"Okay, then. Aaron, if I knock some sense into my daughter, could you marry her?"

I need to get my axe and throw it some. Preferably at a picture of everybody's head. The worst part is that I'm starting to get a headache, and I feel lost at this table. For some reason, I don't feel like I fit in at this dinner. I'm not as nice or forgiving as these people. I feel like I don't always desrve them. I quickly snap out of it. Staring at my steaming plate, I realize that complaining about my fabulous life so far is ridiculous. Johanna Mason, my idol, wouldn't complain. This is five times more than what she had. I've always wanted to have the same level of courage and power as her. I want to be just like her, minus the insanity part.

It's only a matter of time before I get to make her, and my family, proud. About twelve hours, to be exact.

* * *

**Aaron**

I am so friend-zoned.

I don't mind as much as I should. I give her everything. When we were seven, I gave her the first piece of cake at my birthday. When we went to the museum in seventh grade, I gave her my foam finger. Hell, I wrote a poem about her, comparing her with apple pie. Deep down, I think she knows how I feel, but she doesn't want to act on it. If she wanted me for a real relationship, then she would have told me. She doesn't beat around the bush.

Now, we have the Games to focus on. This may work out better than I thought.

I probably sound stupid, and maybe I am. If me and Eva can be put into a win-or-die situation, maybe her feelings for me will finally come out. Maybe I won't be such an idiot and actually do something about this. It's not going to be easy, but somebody has to do it. And I'm certainly not going to let Nathaniel do it. Don't get me wrong: me and Nathaniel are great friends. I just want to slit his throat whenever he puts his arms around her. Every guy best friend feels that way.

Me and Eva are going to volunteer, and everybody knows it. This is a rare year for the District. We actually had a group of people that wanted to volunteer. I'm sure the events of the past two years have something to do with it, but I try not to think to far into things. Just my relationship with Eva. We were easily the best during the little makeshift training center they set up for us. I love hand-to-hand combat, but I hate doing it. I want to have as little confrontation as possible. Eva is the fighter, not me.

Walking to the reapings, I feel nervous and a little scared. This will most likely be the boldest thing I've done. I felt so much better in training, when there was nothing to lose. I have no idea what to feel when I get up to the stage.

Before I know it, I'm in the town square. The dark clouds hang overhead like a man in a noose. What if we don't need to do this? Why can't we just live out our days in the District, where I can have a real chance with living with Eva?

The normal ceremonies occur. They blow by in a blur like the light drizzle falling from the sky. The man grabs the paper from the bowl, and opens his mouth.

"I volunteer."

Okay, Eva. I'll come. I know it's a little late, but I think it's time she knows how I feel. After she takes her place up on the stage, I pounce the moment the guy reads out the name.

"I volunteer."

I walk up to the stage. The crowd separates for me. I'm shocked to even here a few cheers here and there. My family is actually smiling. How the opinion of the Games have changed in two years. Maybe they're just being nice. I'll take it anyway. Better than the waterworks from other Districts.

Eva gives me the widest grin I've ever seen. I hope I can make her even happier.

* * *

**Sorry for it being a little short. I just wanna get to training. I'm so close, I can taste it. Please join in my poll on my profile. It will mean a lot, and it may effect the end results of the Games. ;) Also, please leave a nice, constructive review. Remember that some characters are easier to write than others.**

**By the way, the first twerk was preformed in 1982 on Top Of The Pops. Wikipedia did not have a citation, so I cannot confirm that fact. I will post sponsor points on the next chapter. Maybe.**

**Also, congratulations! Odyssey Of The Stars is now closed to new tributes. I hope you all enjoy what I have in store. Any suggestions for future events are welcomed and requested.**


	18. District 8 Reapings

**Ambrosi Finley P.O.V**

"Hey, sweety. You're looking good today."

The guy looks at me in shock. He huffs as he shuffles past be down the cracked sidewalk. Great. One of the few good looking guys in this District, and he completely blows right by me. They say that the best guys are either gay or taken. For the most part, that is true. I'm bisexual, so I can swing either way. It keeps my horizons expanded.

I sigh and keep walking down the street past the humble brownstones lining the street. The dry cleaning presses down on my shoulder as I walk to my house. Every year, I have to pick up the dry cleaning for tomorrow. The worst part is that they are my clothes. I mean that I actually made these clothes. I want to be a fashion designer when I grow up. I'm not talking about the Capitol fashion, but more subtle fashion. The clothes from the Capitol are unsubtle, blasphemous, and straight out of a circus. I want to make fashion an emotional art form, not just a visual one.

I open the door to the small house tucked away at the end of the street. Walking inside, I hang the crisp clothes on the metal coatrack.

"I'm home." I shout out. I always like to announce when I get home.

My mom pokes her head from the kitchen and waves. I walk past the wooden stairs in the foyer and grin at the smell of broiled chicken seated on the counter. I reach over to grab some, but my mom slaps my hand away, making me clutch it in pain.

"No touching till dinner. How are the clothes?"

"Cleaner than the pots in the sink." I say.

"Did you see anybody you know?" She asks.

"Not really. Just this one guy from school. He didn't say anything to me."

"Is it because you hit on him?"

I gasp. "How did you know that?"

"I have birth to you. I know everything about you."

"Okay, then. Where do I hide my poker set."

My mom's eyebrows furrowed. "You have a poker set? You know how I feel about gambling."

"That's just because of grandpa, and he turned out okay."

"Whatever your definition of okay is," she says.

My mom has always been a little tough on me. She says I'm a hard person to rope in when I get excited. Maybe it's the anti-depressants. The problem with those is that, if you take to much, they make you bounce off the walls. My dad hates that I have to take them.

Then again, my step-dad is even harder on me. He's not quite an alcoholic, but he's teetering on the edge. He has never been supportive of me, and being bisexual doesn't help. I think that is why I hit on people. It helps me stay loose, and I may find someone I actually like one day.

There is a problem with that, though. Another problem with anti-depressants is that they kill your libido. I'm serious. At times, it feels like I have a ball of clay down there. If I had a relationship, I don't think I would be able to hold up on my end. That's the least of my problems anyway.

"Son, you home?"

There he is. My gruff step-dad with a greying beard and receding hairline. Wrinkles are now etching onto his forehead, and his eyes are slightly bloodshot. He may just have a tinge of beer in him. That makes me lucky today.

"Yeah, dad. I brought the dry-cleaning."

"Good. I'm glad I can trust you now and them. Keep it up, and you can bring it back every time."

That's my step-dad for you. A double edged compliment.

"Would it kill you to just give him a compliment, and leave it at that?" My mom says.

"I did. Was that not a compliment?" My dad looks towards me.

"Sure. I'll keep doing my best, dad." I say while trying to sneak another piece of chicken. My mom slaps my hand away again.

I don't know why, but I've always had a small fear of my step-dad. I think it's just a bit of mistrust. I need to do something to make him happy that I am his son. I don't know what it is yet. I know it is out there, and it may be waiting for me right around the corner.

I'm talking about the cloth at the textile factories, by the way. Not the Games. That would be ridiculous.

* * *

**Cleo Ellis P.O.V**

I hate sewing.

I don't get why it's our Districts pride. The only thing we are good for is sewing. The whole world likes sewing, and nothing else.

I remember when I was eight. My mom sat me down, and she started to explain to me that I needed to continue the family business when I grow up.

"The shop has been around for fourth years. This place has been broke. Into twelve times, and burned down twice. Our windows have been broken so many time, and some people have asked us to 'put it on the tab.' Don't let them trick you. There is no tab. The point is that this shop has been through thick and thin, and we need you to make sure that stays the same."

"But mom, I don't want to sew forever," I said. "I want to be a writer."

"That's nice dear. You can do it in your spare time."

The moment I pricked my finger on the machine, I was turned off for good.

Why am I mentioning this? I think about it every year when I get my finger pricked at the reapings. It's a terrible feeling, reliving that hefty moment where your dreams are cast aside for what is realistic.

I had the weirdest dream just last night. I dreamt that I was a renowned writer. I toured around all over the Districts. President Lanarsus shook my hand, and made me author of the year at the Capitol Fine Arts Ceremony. That was it. No nightmare, no sewing, no nothing. I feel like my dreams are the only place I can hide in this world of social stigma.

We have to go through the usual stuff. The video, which reminds me of the store being burned down. I got a sadistic pleasure out of that, hoping that it would be buried under the smoldering ash and charred wood forever. The glass bowl, reminding me of the fish tank in my room. It's right next to my desk where I do my writing. I like to stare at the swimming fish, free and careless at its direction in the flowing pool.

When my name is called, I feel like throwing up.

Are my aspirations for nothing? In the span of two seconds, my whole shaky world has collapsed like my mom in the back. There is nothing for me now.

Hold on a second. Maybe there is.

I have motivation. Unlike others, the Capitol is exactly where I want to be. I know there is a small chance, but I can promote myself during these Games. If I die, at least I tried. If I make it out, I will have everything I ever wanted and more. Don't get me wrong, I'm afraid of dying. Tears are trying to sneak out from my now bloodshot eyes.

So why am I so apathetic? Why am I almost happy?

* * *

**Sorry for this being a shorter chapter. I felt that everything that needed to be conveyed at the moment was. Please give constructive reviews about the content and writing. Get your friends to do so as well. Any suggestions and ideas are welcome.**

**Who is ready for the games?**


	19. District 9 Reapings

**Aslovee Chesed P.O.V**

The card table teeters on the edge of the kitchen tile and the deep brown hardwood floor. I sit in one of the plush leather chairs, glistening under the light from the fan above. This is the last hand of the game. I sit with the other group of teenagers at the table. All of them seem quite wealthy. Even more of a reason for me to win.

I've been a street rat for as long as I can remember. I don't know shit about my parents. Even if I did, I doubt anything would change. Regardless, I've lived my life on old people's loose pockets, and sneaking into the gym to shower.

I see the sweating water bottle on the table. Typical of some rich guy. Wasting all of his money and time.

"Can you put that on a coaster?" I say.

The long haired boy puts his cards face-down on the table. "What's wrong with you?"

"It makes rings on the table."

"Rings? What are you, stupid?"

I leap up to my feet and fling my cards onto the table. "The rings. Don't you get it? The condensation from that bottle is making rings on the table."

"Why do you care? It's my table."

"I don't like rings. That spilt bag of chips is driving me mad, too. You should be glad I'm patient today. Now wipe of the rings, and clean the chip dust off the table. I can't play like this.

The rich kid leans back for a second. The, he lets out a light chuckle. "Really? You're going to let water beat you. I guess midgets are more temperamental than I thought."

This kid doesn't know who he is messing with. I spring over the table like a dolphin hopping in the sea. My hands clutch his neck, and I knock him out of his chair. We crash onto the ground, with me on top of him. I start to choke him out of existence, squeezing his throat like it was a stress ball. His miserable excuses for friends try to lift me off him. Just then, I see a leg directed towards me. I roll over and dodge it. I look over to a stack of boxes, and I see the silver briefcase resting on it like a king on a pedestal.

I bolt for the goods. I run pretty fast. I have to to get away from my pick-pocket victims, so my legs pack a punch. Grabbing the case, I push by one of his clumsy friends and burst out the door. The sunlight hurts my eyes as I exit the unlit shack. I run through the open field, and I decided to cut through the grain silos. Zig-zagging my way through the wheat stalks, I trudge a path until I get to the back of the grain factory. A set of racks is hanging on the wall by one of the main entrances. To get out of here, I need to act the part. I flip a hard hat onto my short black hair and walk as quietly as a mouse through the factory. Nobody pays any attention as I sneak through the factory. Men are standing by conveyor belts, and seeds are sliding down the slopes and into giant metal containers. The synthetic hiss of the machines drowns the shouting of the workers.

When I walk past the managers office, a black man in a white undershirt and tie walks out the door. He starts to follow me down the hall.

"Excuse me." He says.

I haven't had much of a challenge lately. I think I'll humor the guy. I spin around like a steel top, and I give him a small scowl. "Can I help you?"

The man takes a step back from my snappy tone. "Are you lost, son?"

"Don't call me son," I say.

"Sorry. I didn't know that upset you. Where are you going?"

"I was just trying to get home, but I decided to cut through here."

"You can't cut through here."

"It's just a one time thing. Can I go?"

The man sighs and looks up at the ceiling. The vents above rattle like something is crawling inside it. He looks back at me, a concerned expression on his face.

"Don't do this again, okay?"

Before I knew it, I'm on the main road, and I hurry over to the other side. The suitcase bounces off of my legs as I round the corner into my usual alleyway. It is a warm little place. A row of trash cans line the back, and a large dumpster rests on the side. I make sure nobody is around before I take the dumpster and roll it so it is parallel to the street. Locking myself in the alley, the suitcase is placed onto the concrete ground. When I open it up, I see the mother load.

This morphine is going to make me a lot of money.

* * *

**Edan Jibril P.O.V**

I remember the first time I went to the casino.

I've always been pretty shy. I think it is because I've lived a pretty sheltered life. Outside of my mom dying, nothing bad has really happened to me. My dad says that I'm a good luck charm, so he brought me to this underground casino underneath a butcher shop. I was completely hooked. All of the flashing lights, clinking of golden coins, and the lightening shuffling of the crisp cards easily stimulated a ten year old kid.

My dad tried me out on the slot machines. He says that I'll be old enough for the card tables next year. The first pull of the lever, and I won the jackpot. My dad was prouder than he was of his plans. You see, my dad likes to lock himself in his room and come up with ideas. I have no idea what ideas they are. They could be about science, politics, or just some crazy invention. When I ask him, he just avoids the issue. I've always been curious, so this is always something I wanted to know about.

"Dad, what are you always working on?" I asked him.

He looked up from his dinner plate. After swallowing his rice, he gave out a quick sigh. "You know I don't talk about them until they're done."

"It's been half a year, dad. How close are you to finishing it?"

"I'll tell you what, honey. If you can wait until after you're thirteenth birthday, I'll tell you all about it. Unless it's done by then."

That was eight months ago.

I'm worried that the secret won't be much of a secret at all. Maybe my dad is just messing with me. It will be one big joke for him.

That could be part of the reason why I'm so nervous today. This is my first reaping, and I have never been very good in large crowds. Actually, I am what dad calls claustrophobic. After learning what it was, I had to agree with him. The lines go slow, and the people around me seems so big and scary. I don't know how long I can handle it.

When I get up to the needle section, I close my eyes. My dad said that this part hurt. The lady has to take my hand, and then I feel it. I gasp out in pain, and the lady rolls her eyes.

"Just hurry over there," She says.

That's just what I do. I get to my place, and I feel the crowd cave in to strangle me. I'm getting short on breath. I grit my teeth and make my hands into fists. This always helps when I get upset.

I remember when I was really little, and all I did was look at the stars. They looked awesome. I loved it when, one time, my dad said there was going to be a meteor shower. I din't know what that was, so he took me to an open field and let me watch. These short, almost fading streaks of light went through the sky like rainbows. It went right over the twinkling stars. I always felt comforted by the stars. As long as the stars are over me, I feel a lot better about myself. I feel so small, but the stars make me feel like that is okay. Because everybody else is just as small as I am.

I don't think the stars can help me now.

I feel myself kicking the Peacekeepers and screaming as they drag me up to the stage. I start crying, and my nose is running. Never in my life did I even think about the Games. They are happening now. Just like that, and I feel like my life is over. I feel like I'm watching myself move. When I get to the stage, I start hyperventilating so much. The crowd in front of me is staring right at me. I don't want any of this attention. I want to be as far away from myself as I can be.

I'm so sorry, dad. I'm not lucky anymore.

* * *

**We are done. Congratulations. We have made it through the Reapings. Rejoice. The training sessions are happening as we speak. Quick question to answer in your medium length, constructive reviews. How should I portray the Chariots? Should I do them at all, or mention them in passing? What would you like to see in the training sessions, besides training. Any suggestions or ideas are welcome. Thank you, and expect the next chapter soon!**


	20. Training Day 1: I'm Not Doing Chariots

**Romeo Caliteo P.O.V**

I don't know why our District training uniforms are yellow. It's not a pretty yellow, either. It's like mustard mixed with some mold. It's not a big deal, though. I'm sure people look a lot worse. At least it's not latex. I'm glad they got a decent polyester to help out. It's nice and agile. I have a feeling the Games uniforms are going to be like this. I stand next to that Paige girl, who is pacing in a small circle in the elevator. She is biting her fingernails to the nub, and her anxiousness is starting to rub off on me. I can feel my back tensing slightly. I need to take charge of what is going on.

I tap her on the shoulder when she turns around. "Could you stop pacing, honey? I'm actually getting nervous."

She laughs. "Sorry. I must have had too much caffeine. Can't beat the free food around here," she says with a small smile.

I hum my approval. "That's a great perk to it, too. Especially the caramel onions."

"Although, I will say the metal chopsticks are a bit much. Who eats from metal chopsticks, anyway? What if they get all rusty?"

"I guess we'll be eating rust and mold quite soon."

She stands still. At least I calmed her down. I know girls can be impatient, but I'm glad I could help her out. I don't want to stay silent. This is a long elevator ride. These boxes go about as fast as caterpillars. "I will say that the showers are kind of confusing. They have a whole bunch of weird buttons."

She shakes her head. "I don't even think that's real water. When I think of water, I think of weightlessness. That water that can be salty, yet not burn. you can see the sea floor, and look down at the coral reefs. That's a little farther out, though."

I get what she is saying. I'm actually not that much of a swimmer, which is scandalous in District Four. However, I know my way around the beach. "I like those days when the water is green. I can just sit down on the beach, relax, and maybe even meet some people."

"By people, you mean girls, right?"

"I guess I'm an open book."

"I get what you mean, though. I like the water blue. Bright blue. So bright, it looks white. like a mirror. At least I can see my pretty face." She says, snorting out a laugh.

Just then, the door opens. I walk out with her following behind me. The training center is a giant warehouse with dark blue, almost steel, walls. There is a section high above placed in the walls; a two way mirror looking through where the judges and press box is located. On the floor, various stands are open for business, selling secrets to the games. There is a large obstacle course in the middle stretching to the end of the center. Various rope and rock climbing walls reach to the ceiling. On the sides, large computer screens and people are standing. i'm assuming they are experts that will teach us about everything we need to know. A large shooting range is off to the farthest corner; targets waiting to be punctured by the rack of arrows, tridents, knives, and small axes. The lights above beam down, and the air flows out of the vents, leaving the room cool and ready for our hard fighting.

I walk forward, meeting the sounds of crashing weights and heaving grunts on the monkey bars. Me and Paige part, and I come across the plant section. I don't know a dandelion from an actual lion, so I might as well get to know the wildlife I might come across. I step up to the guy, a bored looking man with a receding hairline and newly etched wrinkles sets up the program. Plants flash on the screen, and on the keyboard below me, I have to pick out the plants that won't kill me. I press the start button.

I'm dead.

"Six seconds. That may be a Games record."

I sigh. "Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die."

"Passing through nature to eternity."

I turn around, and my breath suddenly hitches. Imagine my surprise when I see an absolute goddess.

She has her flowing platinum blonde hair that seems a little frazzled from training, green-blue eyes, and a smooth, heart-shaped face complimented by a mischievous smirk. Her tight navy blue training suit hugs her soft curves, and clings onto her amazing figure like a second skin. Her long legs and toned arms hint at a perfect blend of muscle and a feminine body. She seems sculpted out of a statue; a Greek goddess of beauty.

The man in front of me rolls his eyes. "I'll set it up again."

* * *

**Satine La'more P.O.V**

The moment I heard a guy quote Shakespeare, I knew my plan was in full effect.

You see, I like to play a bit of a femme fatale role in these Games. I think that if I have a strong, preferably smoking hot guy to stand in front of me whenever shit goes down, I can increase my chances of survival. It's not toying with a guy's emotions. I'm going to keep this up the whole Games until something happens. Scruples aren't my strongest suit. Like I said before, this is the ultimate acting job. if I keep this up, my life will be changed forever. Looks like mom and dad won't be getting my royalties. The cherry on top, of course, is the eye-candy I get from that plan.

This cutie does not disappoint. He has ice blue eyes and well-shaped brown hair with nice, spaced out curls. He is right at my height, and he has a somewhat surprised expression on his face. His tight training suit does him justice. He has nice broad shoulders, and has a straight posture screaming with confidence. His arms are tensed up and strong, just what I need to fight off any enemies.

He returns my smile, showing his pearly teeth. "Sorry, love. I didn't know anybody around here knew Shakespeare."

"Knowledge is the wing wherewith we fly to heaven" I say.

"It's a real shame. People don't know real art around here." He says in his silky voice.

"I wish they did. that was part of the reason why I volunteered. People in the Capitol are a lot more exciting and cultured around here. They know real art."

Just as he opens his mouth, that idiot behind the keyboard smacks his hand on the table. We snap our attention towards him. "Are you guys gonna train, or what?"

He turns his head back towards me. "How about we continue this later?"

I give him a quick wink, and he eats it up. When we turn around to the keyboard, his hand just grazes mine.

"What? You two are doing this together? This is a one-player simulation."

"What are you gonna do? Kick us out?" I say.

The cutie let's out a laugh. "You're too funny." He says.

This guy is smooth.

He puts his hands on the keyboard and turns towards me. "Romeo."

I can't help but burst out laughing. "Are you serious?"

He leans in a little closer. "Do I fit the name well?"

"You're on your way." I say, smirking again. I see that senile guy roll his eyes and sighs.

"Can we get a move on?"

I keep looking at him. Come on, girl. Tilt head slightly. Run hands through hair. Keep up that smile.

Soon, he'll be putty in my hands. Lunch is gonna be fun.

* * *

**Xavier Thomas P.O.V**

I don't see any rhyme or reason to what's going on in this building. First, some fancy guys practically drag me up to my room, then they throw me into this massive shower. It was the most confusing thing in my life. I felt like I was reading a different language. Some might pity my simple living arraignments, but it is much easier to live in than this.

I guess I'll start with what I know. I walk over to the weights. I'll start getting my arms a little bigger. I need them to protect myself. I'm not naive. i realize the tough situation I am in, so I must make a good impression. Not for others, but for myself. I need to prove to myself that I can do this. My years in the fields have not gone in vain.

I walk over to the weights. I take a thick metal one from the rack. A bunch of harpoons are next to it. I think I'll try that one next. I start to lift them up. It seems easy enough. Maybe I won't have too many problems after all. Okay, that was a lie. I must confess.

When I turn around, a small kid with a '6' stamped on his training suit is staring at me, his mouth agape in shock.

"Did I cause trouble?" I ask him.

The boy shakes his head. "No. You're amazing. Even those bigger guys from the other districts don't lift that much."

I catch my breath real fast and nod at the boy. "Thank you. I know of you. You were that kid that kissed your District partner on the cheek. I heard a lot of people talking about that before today. Who are you, if I may ask.

"Drop the formalities, guy. We're all in the same place. I'm Caz. You see that girl by the snare place?"

I turn and see a small girl with the same number on her sleeve. I nod.

"That's Monette. She's my District Partner. Sorry if I sound lame. I don't know much about what is happening."

"It's everybody's first time here, I reckon. I'm sorry for sounding bad, but I need to continue."

The boy gasped and walked closer to me. "Wait. Hold up. I need to ask you something."

I'm at a standstill. I'm afraid of what the boy is about to ask me. I know that he's going to ask me, but I don't know if I can be so selfish. Then again, if there was anybody I would want to ally with, it would be him and his partner. I wouldn't have to worry about them kiling me as much as others, and I could actually protect them. Also, if worse comes to worse, I am ashamed to say that they would make a good sacrifice while I make a run for it. I'll hate myself forever afterwards, bbut at least I will have an afterwards.

"Do you mind hanging with us. I can throw knives alright, and she throws an amazing boomerang."

Any other tribute would have laughed at that. However, it is a unique weapon type, a boomerang. If they can tie their knives to their boomerangs, maybe they can have a chance at being viable allies. What are the odds that there would be boomerangs in the games? I don't want to be alone, though.

"Sure."

**Eva Marie Green **

I think its time to mess things up.

It is training after all. I know about the rule where you can't kill tributes before the Games, but nobody said anything about getting in their way while training. I know it it probably isn't kosher, but I'm not worried about being that way. I'm on the training course right now. It is a rubber course with various obstacles. There are agility sections, where I have to dip left and right to avoid hitting the pointy rubber jutting out of the ground. There's a slide with a rope, so we can prepare for any slick surfaces. Also, the monkey bars are dead ahead.

So is a Career.

I think that career needs to know that I am faster than her. I dive through the long tunnel before using my elbows to crawl through it. When I get out, I snap to my feet to meet the cool air coming from the vents above us. I hustle over to the monkey bars and leap up to latch onto them. I'm really questioning the use of monkey bars to begin with. What arena will we have to climb through a section using only the surface above us? I fall onto the surface below, and make a neat roll before driving myself to my feet. I see the career dead ahead. For some reason, she stops and is putting her hands on her head. She is doing the runner's trick of pushing on her head to increase blood flow. Too bad she is right in my way.

I charge at her like a bull. She doesn't even flinch as I approach her. Then, impact. I lean in and clip her right side, making sure to let my shoulder run full force into her. She lets out a scream as she twirls around and collapses to the ground. She lands on her hands before laying on her stomach. Time for a show. I turn around, plastering a face of shock at my indecency.

"Oh shit. I'm so sorry. I got distracted," I say.

Queen Bee turns around and growls out. I take a step back, and she charges at me. When we collide, I fall onto my back, her on top of me. Strong hands start to pummel away at my face. I shift myself back and forth, trying to dodge her punches. I slap her with my free hands making her grunt like an evil pit bull. She is stronger than me, so I need another way out. Seeing no other real option, I split my fingers and jab them into her blue eyes. She screams and pops herself backwards. I take tis opportunity to push her away, and hop up to my feet.

At this point, a few of what I'm assuming are the rest of the careers, and Aaron, charge up to me. We all meet each other, meeting in the middle in a heated mob of anger. One of the guys reaches for my shirt collar, and Aaron gives him a swift bop on the chin. One of the other guys from Four grabs Aaron and twirls him onto the floor. It is a complete frenzy in the middle of the training center.

"Why did you stop right in the middle?" the blonde girl from Four shouts, grabbing the girl's shoulders.

"Don't yell at me. You're just a fifteen year old baby," she says.

Suddenly, the girl from District Four slaps the older girl. Then they get into an all out fist fight. It's complete pandemonium, and all inhibitions are broken. Careers are fighting careers, District partners are fighting District partners, it's the bloodbath without death, and maybe a little less blood.

I can't help but step back and let out a giggle. If it's this easy, I will pull through.

Johanna would be proud.

**Sirch Lichen P.O.V**

Are these people insane? They know the judges are still watching above.

I stand back and study the scrum happening around me. People are shoving each other and engaging in quick fist fights. A few of the non-careers are pulling on hair, and I decide to use this time to go over to the empty training areas. At the woods-like area, complete with a few small shrubs, I see a station set up for making fires and setting up snares. I don't know two things about making traps, so I decde to head over.

Except there is another person there. A girl, short and around thirteen, is sitting behind a bush, breathing a little heavy. I get down on my hands and knees and go around to the bush. When my hands make a crunch on the leaves, she turns around, falling backwards with a gasp. She crawls back slightly, like a person fleeing from a bear.

I smile and chuckle softly. "Don't worry. I don't bite. Much."

The girl, still weary, straightens back up and reaches for the sticks in front of her. "I'm sorry. I was just thinking of something."

"What was it? I hope it was about setting that snare, because I don't know how to do it either."

She pokes her head ver the bush and gets a glimpse of the fight still going on. A group of Peacekeepers are nw marching towards them. They are holding cattle prod-like tasers. "Those people fighting should be doing something better."

"So should you. Instead of hiding here."

"I was thinking of something."

"Philosophizing won't get you anywhere, you know. Do you know where I can set up a fire?"

The girl points to an open spot with a few rocks and a pile of dry kindle.

"Thanks. By the way, what are you thinking about?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing. Just how I could fix something."

"Like what? The snare?"

"No, but that, too. It's stupid. I'm Cyrene." She says.

"Sirch. Stop thinking so much, by the way. You have to much to think about now."

**Arlyne Hunter P.O.V**

A red haired girl sucker punches one of the careers. I can't believe this is happening. We haven't even been here for a few hours, and this is already happening. It's absolutely ridiculous. I'm not saying we have to get along, but people should spend less time getting in the way of others and help themselves.

The red haired girl starts to run away when the Peacekeepers come in. A few of the mob start to yell at the Peacekeepers, who in turn start to turn on their prods. The electric hiss silences the entire training center. The group starts to walk away from each other.

"You're dead the moment I see you." The girl from District Two shouts.

"You mean you're going to kill in the Games? Rat's snacks, I thought you were a pacifist." The girl name Eva-Marie said.

I can't help but let out a quick giggle. Then, I stop as I spy the red-haired girl clutching her wrist. She seems to be grimacing in pain. Frowning, I rush over to her. She grimaces as I see a small line of blood drip from the wound.

"You need help?" I ask.

The girl seems extremely hesitant at first. She studies me, seeing if I could be trusted at least now. Then, she gives me a curt nod. I go towards her and lead her forward, helping her to the medical section of the training area, When we get there, a man is standing by a plethora of medical ingredients. Antiseptics, antibiotics, vaccines, even cyanide (of all things) line up like a bar, waiting to be drunk by a thirsty patron. I rush past the man, who shouts at me for not having permission.

"Fuck you. I'm hurt, and I'm a tribute." The red haired girl says.

The man throws his hands up in frustration. I swipe a few bandages and alcohol before darting back to her. Sitting her down, I begin my work of patching her up.

"You know the medics will heal this later, right?"

"I know. That won't be until lunchtime, though. You need some of this now."

"Thanks, whoever you are."

"Arlyne. I'm from District Three."

"I'm Cleo. You know, I realize the honor system doesn't really work here, but I want to pay you back for this."

"Pay me back by not killing me," I say.

She pauses for a second. Asking someone not to kill you is a tall order. I wouldn't make that promise, either. I need to focus on what is happening now. That way, I can keep up my skills, and maybe even make some more.

"How about this," I say. "Could you teach me some stuff about fighting. Then, I'll teach you about this stuff. It's an easy trade off."

"Easy trade off? That's liek telling an enemy how to shoot a gun at yourself. Why would I do that."

"Because you need it. Do you see that this cut is horizontal. If it was vertical, you would bleed out much faster. You didn't know that, did you?"

"So what? I'm not telling you a thing."

"Fine. Don't tell me. Just show me."

Cleo stares at me. I hope my fast talking helps me out again. Whatever deity is out there, let this girl help me out just a little. My District partner hardly will.

"Fine. Don't ask me any questions. Just watch."

I would say that I could watch her anyway, but I know what she means. I'll be able to be an active watcher. Maybe I'll be able to squeeze a few tips from her. Come to think of it, with her offensive power, and my defensive ones, we might actually make a good team.

I won't dare mention that yet. I have to take baby steps here.

* * *

**I think I will sop here for now. I will have an aftermath chapter to the first night after training next. If you have any suggestions or requests involving your tributes, do not hesitate to let me know. **

**Please vote in the poll. It might even effect the outcome of these Games. Maybe.**

**If you have any questions regarding sponsor points, let me know. The points will be posted on the next chapter. **

**Thank you. We are finally in the Capitol. Good luck to everybody. Please leave thoughtful, constructive reviews. Those are the only ones that will get points. **

**Quick question. Who are you rooting for so far? Leave your answer in a review. Your response can be different than your response in the poll. **


	21. Between The Training: Night 1

**Ambrosi Finley P.O.V**

Just a day at the office.

I really need my pills right now. I don't care if they have bad side-effects. I'm starting to feel the withdrawal already. It's only been two days since I have been without them. Why am I on them to begin with? People have down days all the time. How come my down days are worse than theirs. I can't have one now. It's time to cast that aside. A depressed tribute is a dead one.

Right before I step into the elevator, a guy cuts me off and leaps into the closing door. He has red hair that's slightly long for a guy, freckles on his face and nose, and dark blue eyes. The guy around my height whips around and puts his hand on the door, forcing it to stay open. I walk inside, and the humming of the moving pulleys pull up the elevator.

"Thanks for that."

"No big deal. We all could use a little help. You seem pretty nervous anyway."

"No I don't. How about you? You look like you could hold up your own?"

He looks at me for a few seconds. I start scratching my head, messing up the hair clinging to my scalp from the sheen of sweat. "Are you flirting with me?

Great. Even when I'm trying to be serious, people think I'm flirting. "Absolutely not. I was just talking about training. You almost gave that girl from One a concussion."

He shrugs. "She was in my way. I've never been a fan of those silly teenyboppers, anyway."

"What?"

"Nothing. It's an old saying."

Why am I so worried about what this guy is thinking about me. Am I insecure about myself. Well, that's obvious. But why him? He's attractive, but I'm not looking for any romance. H would make a great ally. How do I ask him subtly? I've aways been pretty outlandish, so being quiet and calm is not my forte.

"Do you like these uniforms?" I say. Might as well talk about something I know about.

"I don't really care. When I wrestle, I just wear whatever they give me. I think it helps me adapt to different things. You seem kind of scrawny, so I'm assuming your a gatherer more than a hunter.

"You could say that? Aren't you from District Twelve? You guys are gatherers, too."

"Are those eyes real, by the way?"

My eyes. Oh no he didn't. "What's wrong with my eyes?"

"They're red. Are you actually trying to look cool with colored contacts."

"I'm not trying to look cool. I jut feel better with contacts."

"They make you feel more secure."

Am I that open of the book, or is this guy a mind reader? "I know your hair isn't real."

"And I freely admit it. I dye this red. Doesn't mean it's because I'm insecure."

"I am not insecure. I'll prove it to you."

"And how will you do that?"

Now he has me in a checkmate. I don't have any real skills that would help me out. "I won't tell you."

"Fair enough. Enjoy the rest of your life." He says with a smirk.

I chuckle as the door to my floor opens up. The white walls of the hallway meet towards a lavender door standing by two statues.

"See you later, alligator." I say before the door closes behind me. For a second, I think he actually smiled.

* * *

**Paige ****Parker P.O.V**

Oh my goodness, this food is incredible.

Braised roasted pork, thick barbecue ribs, steaming mashed potatoes, soothing gravy, and fried turkey dance on my plate as I swirl it around with my fast moving fork. Training was tough today. I actually went ahead and tackled the rock wall. My arms were going to feel it tomorrow. I know I need to learn how to climb. I doubt I'm going to beat any of these lameos up, so I'll need to play hide and go seek. I should ask my mentor for alcohol. It's time to spice things up.

Actually, there is something spicing this up. Apparently, my District mate, or whatever the hell you call them, invited a girl in. I believe she's from District 1. It seems that they're getting closer and closer. I saw them from the room. That girl getting all close to Romeo. Romeo trying to be smooth. Young love is so passionate, right? I could never fall in love. Not now. This has nothing to do with the Games. People don't know this, but I consider myself quite unlucky. I guess it stem from when my brother was reaped. Actually, I'm not going into that right now. Out of mind, out of life.

"This turkey is kind of jello-y. You know what I mean?" I ask to them.

They stop their obvious flirting and look towards me with wide eyes. My mentor stops his bottle of wine mid-glass in surprise.

"I think the turkey is fine." My mentor says.

"I wasn't asking you, old man. I was asking Romeo." I say.

"Why'd you say my name like that, Paige?" Romeo asks.

"Because your name just had to be 'Romeo', didn't it?" I say.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He says, making the District One girl giggle like mad. "I'm just getting ready for the Games."

"Good luck to you. You see, Mister Mentor, I can tell you don't actually care about us."

He chokes on his food. "I want to win just as much as you."

"I don't blame you. The Games are kind of like weddings and pregnancies. It's only exciting when it's your games. That's why this old guy is so bored by us." I point to my mentor.

"That's not it at all. I'm supportive. I gave you that wine bottle on the train ride." He says.

"You lied. It was just grape juice. So, other girl," I point at her. "Aren't you breaking the rules being here?"

My mentor chokes on his wine. His thick black glasses fall off his face as he leaps to his feet. I have to stomp out a laugh. My mentor is quite neurotic. I don't know why.

"Relax, man. It's not like they're going to kill us." I say, draining my apple cider. "Maybe you, but not us."

He spins around and points at a girl standing by the door. "Do you know about this?" He asks.

"She's actually a life-like statue. That's why she doesn't talk," I say.

My mentor keeps freaking out. He stammers, unintelligible words. Apparently, he was a stand-up comedian before this, and he's been shell-shocked from the Games. I don't know. Maybe he bored people to death during his Games.

"I'm just saying that I need to know if this is allowed. I mean, people don't just walk in and barge through the door, especially in another District. I-I just...feel odd sitting at this table. I think I'm going to have some appletinis over by the TV. What if they're watching us right now? The peacekeepers are gonna break in and gut me like a fish. And now, you wanna make fun of the Avoxes?"

"I'm not making fun. See? She's smiling." I say, pointing at the Avox.

Meanwhile, I look over at the other end of the table. Romeo and that girl are just inches apart. Whatever Romeo does, he must be good at it. He tilts his head and whispers something in her ear. Then, the girl gives him a mischievous smile. Suddenly, they just get up and start to leave. Just like that.

"We'll be in my room. We need to discuss our strategy with the others." Romeo says. He tugs on the girl's hands, and she saunters right next to him as they disappear around the corner. The crashing of the slamming door wallops the tense air in the room, making my mentor hop up in his seat.

"Dear lord. I'm so fired when I get back to the District. What if they make me go back to stand-up?" He says, putting his head in his hands.

I stab my fork in some pork; tender juice soaking away onto the plate. "There's a bright side to that. At least people can laugh at you instead of pretending to laugh with you."

* * *

**Satine La'more P.O.V**

When Romeo closed the door behind me, all inhibitions sailed out the window. I turn around, and he walks over, our noses almost touching when he comes to a halt.

"You know, your breath is really spicy."

I let out a grin. He chuckles. "That reminds me of when I was a kid. My parents always made avocado salad. When the gave me some, my dad asked if I wanted hot sauce."

"You burned yourself?" I say.

"I tried to cool it down with fish soup, but that was spicy, too. I wanted to die."

"How about you continue that story tomorrow?"

"Are you sure. I don't want to do anything wrong?"

"Romeo, are you being shy?"

I instantly melt into the kiss. Our lips join in a fiery dance, synchronizing like two firecrackers launched in the night sky. My eyes close as I let the bliss overcome my mind. My arms wrap around his neck, and my hands comb through his soft hair. Just then, his tongue sneaks it's way past my lips. I meet him halfway, engaging in a ferocious and passionate battle. I feel his warm scent taking over my senses. This guy was an amazing kisser. Obviously, he's probably practiced with other girls. I couldn't help but feel at least a little special, then. I'm the one tribute he decided to go after. Now, I can use that to my full advantage in the games. Why am I even thinking about that right now? There are more pressing matters at hand.

His hands sneak behind and under my training uniform. I didn't even bother to take it off, too excited at sealing the deal between us. Sadly, I'm starting to run out of air, and he has his own idea in mind. He pulls back, allowing me to lasso some air back into my lungs. His hands are frozen in place, and he looks right at me. It seems like he's asking for permission to continue. Does he really think I would say no? I nod my head, and he pulls of my shirt. I yank him back into a kiss while he deals with undoing my pants. When those fall down, I step right out of them. I'll admit, I am a little self-conscious at the moment. I always feel just a tinge of discomfort around now. That moment will soon pass. It's not fair, though. I'm in my green training bikini, and he's still in his shirt and jeans.

"I think you have way too much clothing on." I say.

"You should do something about that." He says, giving me a quick wink.

I return his wink, and he lifts his arms up. I grasp the hem of his shirt and almost rip it off. Now, I stop and stare.

I stare at his chest. He isn't super buff like the other careers, but every muscle is defined. His toned torso leads down to a v-line that points down to the waistline of his pants. His broad, tanned shoulders are kissed by the city lights sneaking through the window. His vibrant blue eyes smolder, giving me a dark, lustful gaze. He stand there with a small smile, waiting for me.

Even if this could all be for show, this might be the best acting job I've ever done.

I turn him around and give him my best predatory smirk. I shove him onto the bed and climb onto his lap. Leaning down, I drown in another heated kiss. He eats it up, starting to take off the back of the bikini. Before he does, I go back a little, and I fumble with his belt buckle. He leans on his elbows while watching me.

"Satine, Satine, Satine..." He says with a chuckle.

"Shh. Babe, let me finish." I say back.

I undo the belt buckle, and I fling the belt across the room. It hits a painting on the wall, knocking it onto the ground. I slide his pants off, leaving him with his dark blue boxers that accentuated his cut figure.

He finally reaches for my back, and he reaches his target.

* * *

**Glint Mugg P.O.V**

Where the heck is my District partner? We were supposed to talk about strategy. I was assuming we were all going to band with the others from Two and Four. All I can do now is talk to my mentor. She is a motley looking girl. Quite frumpy and dressed in an orange bathrobe with rubies lining the fringe. And that's not just for now; she was wearing that earlier today in public.

"Glint, honey, can you do me a favor?" She asks.

"Sure, Liberace. What can I get you?" I say.

"Whats Liberace?" she asks.

"Whats Liberace?" I say in a high-pitched tone.

"That's not how I sound, you depraved delinquent."

"Come on, Linera. Nothing wrong with being a delinquent. I'd still like you if you were a delinquent."

"You never answered my question. Is Liberace a cologne?"

"How good were you in History class?"

She puts down her chalice filled with champagne. "Honey, do you really think I needed schooling? When I was a young girl, I always traveled around with my father. He was an artisan, you know. Do you know what that is?"

I shake my head, and click my tongue. "No, I'm not privileged enough to be an idiot." I say with a chuckle.

"Don't be like that. Be like me."

"I'm my own man, honey. And I'm going to take this Capitol by storm. When I'm done with these Games, the whole world is gonna clamor to get a glimpse of me."

"Surely, you don't believe that?"

"I believe every word. You see, I'm a tough cookie to crack. So those judges don't scare me at all. I remember this one time, I was walking home from the training center. I was twelve. Out of nowhere this guy decided to cross the street. Suddenly, this giant truck zoomed down and smacked him. So, he died. Happy ending, right? It got me thinking, though. How was that kid treated? He was just another brick in the wall. I don't want to be that, Linera. I want to be the tribute to remember. You know, when you walk on a beach, there are two kinds of footprints.. The ones that just get washed out and replaced, or the ones that stick in that muddy area. That's going to be me. This world is so small, it can't be too hard to change everything. And you know what? It all starts with me. I'm going to begin a new age for tributes, and the Games will never be the same. I don't care about being a career. I don't want to kill anyone. But I will do what I can to be remembered. This is my only chance."

My mentor stares at me. Her mouth is agape, and she looks around her, as if she was looking for hidden cameras. Knowing the Capitol, there probably were some around here. I sincerely think I can make an impact. When I win the Games, people will talk about me for a very long time. These Games won't ever be the same when I'm through with it. It's an exciting rush, realizing the whole world is in your hand. I can barely sit still.

"Stop pacing. You look like a drunk fly." My mentor says.

"At least I don't look like a real fly." I say with a laugh. It's so much fun to mess with her. Wouldn't you know it? My whole speech is ruined. In one ear, and out the other.

* * *

**Cadmium Ruse P.O.V**

I just have a certain frustration that is starting to wear away on my stomach. I'm eating like a pig at the table, unaware of the mortified looks I'm getting from everyone else. I feel right at home in this place, which is a good and bad thing. Good, because I can let out any and all of my emotions. Bad, because those emotions should be reserved for killing others. I can't let them know about that. I need to shock everybody when I come out and attack.

A knock comes from the door. Those stupid Avoxes aren't anywhere close, but I am sitting a few feet away. I slide out the silver chair as it screeches out on the hardwood floor. I turn the corner to the entrance. I'm feeling even more angry, bt I need to keep it all in. I need to open the door, put on a pleasant face, and make nice with these idiots.

Unless it's a non-career. I open the door and see a girl in a baby blue blouse and grey tee shirt. She has light brown hair and blue eyes with pale skin. She is about a head shorter than me with a curvy body and heart shaped face. She looks pretty good for being a District Twelve tribute. I can't worry about things like that. Now, I need to play the part of stuck-up Career.

"Are you Twelve?" I ask while putting on a sneer.

She plasters a smile on her smooth face. "Hiya. How's it going, Career?" She says in a drawn out tone.

I start to slam the door on her, but she shoves her foot in the opening. This idiot is really starting to piss me off. Her face would look really good with my fist on it right now.

"What do you want?" I say quickly.

"Grumpy much? Anyway, I need milk." She says with a grin.

I'm completely floored. I could probably strangle this girl right now. She has the balls to cause me trouble so she could get some precious milk? "You bothered me to get milk?"

"Yup."

"Why didn't you get some before?"

"Because I don't have any. Duh."

I try to slam the door on her again. However, she takes her shoulder and blows through the entrance. She forces her way through the opening. She walks down the hallway and comes out into the kitchen. Over the counter, I see my shocked mentor peek up over the surface. Everybody in the room is frozen in a wave of shock crashing over the room. She heads towards the refrigerator, stopping by one of the Avoxes.

"Excuse me. Could you get me some milk?" She says.

I rush over and turn her around. "Moron. She can't speak. She's an Avox."

Twelve gasps. "Really? My bad. I thought you guys were just stuck up. Although, you probably still are."

She goes to the fridge, rummaging through the stocked fridge. She throws out a piece of cheese, and she captures a tall bottle of frothing milk. At this, my Mentor shoots to his feet. He is shaking, his face flushed in red.

"What makes you think we'll give you our milk?"

"Because," she says while waving the glass bottle at him. "I'm a tribute. I can get anything I want for the next few days, Grandpa. I gotta go now. Thanks for the milk. I hope my presence has brightened up your day. Or night. Take your pick."

With that, she strolls out of the room. We can't believe what we just saw. A District 12 tribute just waltzed in and took a career District's milk. It's absolute insanity. _ simply runs out of the room. Who knows what she's doing? My mentor is pacing around like an angry rhino, barking at the people around to do something. What would they do, anyway. I can't contain my anger anymore. It's starting to nip away at my nerves like a hummingbird on a tree. I turn around, and I wallop the grey wall behind me.

"I need my fucking milk for tomorrow. I can't have the eggs tomorrow unless there's milk." My mentor shouts.

I whip my head around and point at him. "Shut up. This has nothing to do with the milk." I say.

"Don't yell at me, boy. Don't you know how important that calcium is for me?"

"What are you gonna do? Die?"

It's time I get to stop hiding from myself. It's time to show everybody exactly what I think of them. And I know for a fact that a certain District Twelve tribute will be a perfect first victim.

* * *

**Tell me who you are rooting for? Do you feel any different about any of the characters at the moment? What suggestions or ideas do you have? Do not hesitate to let me know what it is. Please join in the pool.**

**Question: How sad am I since the Rangers lost the Stanley Cup? To be honest, I am still grieving. I find this is therapeutic. At least we didn't lose it in New York.**

**Real Question: explain to me the concept of parsecs. Just a quick definition in a review or PM. I will let you know who gets closest to the right answer, and give points accordingly.**

**Please tell me what could be improved. All reviews need to be constructive to count. Thank you. See you soon!**


	22. Training Day 2: Splintering Away

**Venus Whitmore**

Walking into the elevator, I feel sick all over. The whole build-up to these stupid Games might by as bad as the actual Games. I'm so scared, I think I could pass out any second. I lean on the steel railing in the elevator. I slow my breathing down. In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. I feel a little better. I can at least think for a few seconds. The world isn't tilting on it's axis, so I must be calmer. I still feel weird about my position. Not bad anymore, but weird. I have quite a cross on my back, and it's name was Katniss Everdeen. She at least built up her reputation. Now, I have to follow through.

Actually, I am kind of jealous of the others. The Careers are much better prepared, and they came from better setting than District Twelve. Hell, I'm jealous of the Capitol people. They get to be safe and live in style. I just had my stolen bow and arrow.

What I did last night was no accident. Because I can't beat a Career with my fists, I'll try to get into their heads. If I make them blind with rage, I'll just shoot them down like the roosters on my street. My street was so clean of any wildlife, you could eat off the floor. No bird, turkey, or chicken could cross my vision and leave it alive. Those animals were so stupid.

Hold on a second. Animals. Chameleons. I remember now.

As the door opens, another idea springs to my head. This is brilliant. Why didn't I think of this before? When I was a kid, my mom always told me about the folks at the Seam. That's the ghetto part of town. When she "suggested" that I sell my killings to the folks at the seam, she told me to blend in.

"Just blend in, sweetie. If you pretend to be like them, no one will know you come from this part of town. No one will hurt you."

"So like a chameleon?" I asked.

"Sure. Whatever floats your boat."

"What's a boat?"

The point is that there is no way that I can take on the Careers. So, why don't I blend in. If I just pretend I'm a career, maybe they'll let me past. If I can get in their heads and prove myself as an ally, they'll have no choice but to let me in.

I'm not stupid, though. There are quite a few flaws. That kid from Two probably hates me. Then, there is the last non-career that joined the careers. That bread guy won. Although, considering the repercussions, I would hardly call that a win. I need to stay confident. Maybe i can start a trend for District Twelve. Confident, yet different. Who knows? In about ten years, District Twelve could be a career district.

Who am I kidding?

Regardless, I need to show them who is boss. The worst thing they can do is kill me. I actually have a bit of an advantage, with my bow and arrow. If I can get with the Careers, kill them, then wait out the rest of the Games, I'll be set.

Now I'm stuck at the killing part. Animals are one thing. People are way different. I really don't want to hurt anybody. If that's how I need to survive, though, then I have to follow through. Souls have been sold to the devil for less.

When I get to the training center, I see that I am actually one of the first people there! That guy from last night is there, the one with the blonde hair, blue eyes, and typical muscular build from his extra training. that girl that started that fight from District Seven is there with her District partner as well. I think it's Eva-Marie and Aaron. Training doesn't officially begin for another hour. I woke up early to show those Careers that I can hang with them, just like Katniss' boy toy (I forgot his name).

I'm scared out of my body, but I need somebody out there, and it has to be them.

I walk over to the shooting range. I wish my old bow and arrows were there. They felt so clean, sliding down my smooth fingers. The wood was so warm, and it felt like the grace of the hunting gods blessed it to do my bidding. This bow is steel and cold. It doesn't have fire in it. It is mechanical, and simply shoots out from where I point it. There is no drive, no soul. Then again, it will be used for killing people. That's a metaphor.

One, two, three. Just like that, chunks of the dummies are skewered off by the metal tips of the limber arrows. The cool air is cut by them as they sail over. I keep flinging them off, making pops emanate through the room. I feel that weight on my back and calves lift off slightly, like the elevator rising to another floor. Suddenly, I raise my head up, and my back straightens. The small sounds of chopping and slicing have stopped. I turn around, and see that the few tributes were looking at me. Like a gazelle seen by a lion, they turn away, acting like they didn't see me.

I mentally high-five myself. I made an impression. An impression on about two people, but one nevertheless. While I cheer myself on, I see the milkman from last night turn around. This is my chance to acquaint myself with him. I can't formulate my plan with all of them, but I could try this out on one of them.

First, irritation. "Hey, milkman," I say as his eyes widen like dinner plates. "Thanks for the present last night."

"Present?" Eva-Marie asks. "I didn't know Careers did that kind of stuff to non-careers."

"Fuck off before I slice your throat from yesterday. Slate is still getting eye treatment. Now, she'll look awful for the interviews." He says.

Typical Careers. Worried about looks when their going into the Games.

"Not that I care about looks. But she was complaining my ear off all night."

Okay, that's one stereotype he disproved. Maybe he is just a little different.

"Whatever, milkman. How about you come here for a second? I have a proposition for you."

"A what? In English, please."

"Pardon me. Can you come here?" I say in a mockingly slow voice. Next on the agenda, egg him on.

"Shit. Twelve has attitude." Eva-Marie says.

"That's right, honey." I say. That sounds so weird coming from me, but it actually feels really good to let out that inner actress.

"Why the fuck would I go over there?" He asks.

"Because I have a proposition. Do you know what that is?"

"I just said I don't. Damn it, speak English." He shouts.

"Come over here," I say. He throws down his sword and crosses his thick arms. Now, I need to challenge him. Careers hate being picked on, from what I've heard. "How about this? I hit an apple off of Seven's head, and you have to listen to me."

"Fuck no. I'm not a part of this." Eva-Marie shouts.

"Fine. I'll try something else." I say. Then, the District Seven girl turns around, continuing her training on the ropes. She isn't very far off the ground; about two feet up. Grinning, I pick up my bow and arrow. I put the arrow in position, and I yank it back. With a release of my fingers, the arrow propels across the training center. Just as Eva-Marie puts her hand up to climb further, an arrow crashes into the rope, mere inches from her hand. She screams, then collapses to the ground. The rubber padding grabs her underneath, like a boy playing with a water balloon. She scrambles to her feet before pointing at me.

"You're a real asshole, twelve."

I clutch the bow and rest it on my shoulder. Then, I turn to District Two. He sighs, then strides towards me. He stops in front of me, looking down and meeting my gaze. "I'm not going to lie. That was badass."

Holy shit. A compliment. I'm making real progress.

"Are you going to listen to me?" I ask.

"Just tell me what you want. And you still owe me for the milk."

"I've been watching you and your little pack for a while now, and I must say: I am impressed."

The guy lets out a terse laugh. "Are you being serious. You're impressed?"

"Absolutely. I think you guys would make great allies."

At this, he tenses up and looks at me like I'm a complete lunatic. "Do you not know how this works?"

"I do, and I also know that people are going to like me a lot after she-who-must-not-be-named." I'm actually lying here. I don't know how the crowd will react to me. They were welcoming enough at the chariots, but that was probably because of the makeup. They don't know about any abilities or talents. For all I know, they may despise me. I just hope that this guy isn't smart enough to realize that.

"So you're saying that you would help us?"

"No, I'm saying that you would help me. Think. We're all going for one goal. People sympathize with me after the past two years, then people will like you all. We nab the older tributes first, then kill off the weaklings last. After that, fair game."

He stands in a rain of contemplation. I can envision the wheels turning in his mind. If this doesn't work, I make myself an even bigger target. If it does, I may be screwed either way. They may just take that opportunity to axe me faster.

"I know you're not like the other Careers. You're not just another mindless zombie. You're your own person." I say.

He tilts his head slightly, his gaze shifting towards my bow. Then, he turns around and starts to walk away.

"I'll talk it over with the others, Twelve. We'll let you know after lunch."

I'm glad I didn't have to do step four: seduction.

* * *

**Aslovee Chesed**

One thing I can get used to from these Games is solitude. I always like being alone. It's better for me to relax in my own thoughts, away from the rest of the world as I indulge myself into my training. I figure that swords may work out for me. I remember stealing some from a Peacekeeper training center on the farthest end of the District. What they're doing with swords, I don't know.

That is part of the reason why I lake Edan so much. She barely talks, and when she does, it means something. Last night, we actually had an interesting conversation. I was sitting after dinner by one of the windows in the spacious den. Looking out, the bright city lights singed the black horizon like a piece of paper in a furnace. As I leaned on the glass, Edan walks in. Her, medium-length chocolate brown hair bounces as she rushes towards the window, excited for some reason. Then, her wide jade green eyes, fall in disappointment, upset at the sight of the blank skyline. "I don't like the lights out there," she said after a few seconds of tense silence.

I only heard a quick "hello" and "good morning" out of her the entire train ride and chariot event here. This was a major change in pace.

"This city feels so cold. There isn't anything green."

"Green? There are a few green billboards," I say.

She stammers. "I'm sorry. I should have been clearer. I was talking about parks and trees and open fields. None of that is here."

"I lived out in those fields. It's not as special when you spend every night in them."

"Did you ever look at the stars?"

I consider her for a few seconds. I don't get what this girl is getting at. I'm a get-to-the-point kind of guy. This talk of stars is making me really awkward. "I saw them when I laid on park benches."

"Did you really look at them?"

"That's what I meant. When you've seen one star, you've seen them all." I say.

She gasped. "You're kidding. The stars are the things that calm me down. If they are still out there, I get a feeling that things might not be so bad."

"Sorry to break it to you, but that kind of optimism won't cut it here."

She sighed and looked down. "I figured."

Then, she started to sniffle. I was a little shocked. I couldn't calm down a twelve year old crying kid. Thankfully, she ran off to her room and left.

Striking the dummy a few times, I look back on that conversation. Maybe that optimism wouldn't be so bad to have around here. The Careers are arguing, shouting abut somebody tripping someone else. That black farmer guy from District Eleven is helping these two smaller kids while setting up traps. A guy from District three is smashing a club into the ground, making splinters erupt from the wood. I don't know where Edan is located. I could help her out a little. I won't ally with her. I need to be by myself. Maybe I could...help her out? Just give her a few pointers to fend for herself. If it came down to the two of us, I would easily win. In the meantime, she can fight her way through. Just a little bit. She may even place well. Either way, she deserves to see those stars at least one more night.

I can give her one night in the arena. I'll give her that much.

* * *

**Slate Bedford**

I hate to say that I am lazy. I would like to say that I am extremely confident. But, what the hell. I'm lazy. Cadmium wouldn't wake me up. I guess he wanted to train earlier today. Regardless, that dolt should have at last tried. I'm actually quite sweet in the morning. That's why I always have ice cream early. Not healthy, but it makes me in a better mood to destroy everyone in my path.

I'm sitting at the table, and I see that sections have already been broken off. Of course, Districts One, Two, and Four are together. The big guy from Nine is sitting with these smaller kids from Six, and everybody else is sitting with their District Partners.

"Good, my lord, how does your honor for this many a day?" Satine says, leaning on Romeo's side and clutching his arm. Shit, I still can't believe Romeo is his name.

Romeo reaches over on the table and hands her some water. "I humbly thank you; well, well, well." He says, with his fuck buddy leaning closer towards him.

"Can you shut the fuck up? I need to say something." Cadmium says.

"Before we do. Slate, are you going to have your brownie?" Paige asks, sitting directly in front of me. I look down at my square tray. I cleaned off most of my food, with a little of it being splattered on my training shirt. I was always a bit of a slob. However, giving away a brownie is the last thing I will do.

"Abso-fucking-lutely. Why would you say something like that?"

"I didn't know you had sugar highs." Paige says with a smile.

"I'm just saying to not fuck with my brownies. If you ever talk to me like that again, then I-."

"Everybody stop. I have a prop...propos...I have an idea for everybody."

"Alright genius. And I think you were going for proposition." Romeo said as Satine giggled in his ear.

"So, the District Twelve girl came up to me this morning."

"That cunt that stole our milk?" I ask, fuming from the memory.

"What's wrong with you. Couldn't make your brownies?" Paige asked with a smirk.

"Fuck off. I just want to know what happened. Cadmium, keep going." I say, glaring at Paige.

"Right. She came up and basically asked me to ally with her. She wants to be with us."

"No fucking way. You serious?" I say.

"Can you stop with the language, please?" Romeo asks.

I turn my head towards Romeo, my mouth slightly agape in surprise. I stare at him for a second, trying to get my bearings. What was up with the Careers this year? We are turning into neurotic idiots.

"What's wrong with the way I speak?"

"It's not ladylike."

"Well, cutting your guts open isn't ladylike, either. Guess whats going to happen during the Games?" I say while pointing at him with my plastic knife.

"Everybody, shut up. We have a problem here. Are we letting in District Twelve or not?"

"She's the archer, right?" Satine asks.

"Wait. She's an archer?" I ask. Cadmium nods. "No. No way in hell. Have you not seen the last two games."

"And it would have worked if everyone had just kept their mouth shut after it was over. The point is that people are going to sympathize with her. She isn't like..."

"Like what?" I ask.

Cadmium leans in towards me, cupping a hand around my ear. "Katniss."

I gasp and scoot away from him on the plastic bench. "Don't you fuck around with that, Cadmium. We'll get shot on the spot the moment the Games start."

"People are going to remember that, and they'll get their hopes up for another surprise winner. She'll make a good distraction while we clean up the arena, and she'll get a ton of sponsor stuff. We'll kill the stronger ones, leave the weak kids for last, and kill her somewhere in the middle."

"And where does that leave us?" Romeo asks. Satine nods along with him.

"It leaves us in the same spot every pack has ever been in."

"People hate that girl from Twelve. You think this one will be any different? The Gamemakers want her dead the moment she steps off. She's bad luck. You didn't think this through, did you?"

"I think people will like her, and she will be a good ally."

"Don't you talk about allies. I don't want to hear that word.

Cadmium looks at me with a curious tilt of the head. "Why not?"

"Some words make me feel weird. Like, whenever the word 'bear' is mentioned, I just have a tick."

"No one cares about your tick." Cadmium says in a strong voice.

"Cadmium, don't talk to her like that." Romeo says.

"Shut up, Romeo. Stop acting like you're so high and mighty. Camium," I turn back to my District partner. "If you wanna join her, fine. Leave us out of it."

"What if I wanna join her, too?" Paige asks.

I slam my hands on the table and rise up, leaning over the grey plastic dining desk. "I thought I told you to not talk like that to me."

"Who voted you leader of this pack?" Cadmium asks. "You know what, I don't know if I want to be in this. I think Twelve will get me farther."

Just like that, the Careers are starting to be torn apart, like a package during the New Year gift-giving ceremonies. I'm a little stunned at just how little we can hold things together. Maybe the past two years have changed a lot more. I'm a huge traditionalist, so to see this happen is unacceptable. The dead victors of District Two are rolling in their graves. That just makes me more energized to keep going. I need to stay sharp, and show these people who they are dealing with.

These Games will have a traditional victor.

* * *

**I'll stop here for know. I think about 2,500 words per training chapter is fine, even though this is much longer than that number. **

**Question: Would you ally with Venus? There is good and bad in this. Tell me which side is better. And do you think the Career pack will survive training?**

**Make sure you participate in the poll! This May effect the outcome of the Games!**

**If you have any constructive comments, suggestions, or ideas, please let me know. I can't do all of this alone, you know. And I have sixteen excellent OC creators to help me. Thank you. See you soon!**


	23. Between The Training: Night 2

**Timas Etienne P.O.V**

Me and Cyrene sit in a small, grey room on a mold green couch. The tiny cubicle of a room wedged itself between the main area and the hallway leading to the bedrooms. I don't know why we are waiting here I feel like we are going to the doctor's office.

Our mentor opens the red door and slams it shut. He goes to the red chair and plops himself on it. He has a clipboard and a pen mounted in his hand.

"You guys did good at training today. keep it up, and you'll get a six."

"I'm sorry, but I'm tired. Can we hurry up, please?" Cyrene asks.

"We need to talk about the interviews." My mentor shifts himself on the love seat. He adjusts his clipboard, and scratches his pen on it.

Interviews. My worst nightmare. I can hardly talk with my own family, let alone the whole world. I would much rather just sit at home and read something. I don't really want to talk to anybody. With the interviews, I'll probably freeze up or have some sort of panic attack. For all we know, I could have a heart attack, and they would have to postpone the Games. That might be my biggest contribution to the Games.

"Can't we do this the night before?" I ask.

"You know this is important. We need to find a niche for you all. And hopelessly nervous won't do it."

"I'm not hopelessly nervous." Cyrene says.

"Do you want to win? Let's get to it. The first question Ceaser Flickerman will probably ask you is basic things. 'How are you doing?' 'What are you feeling right now?' 'Did you enjoy training?' Basic issues like that? Then, he'll delve into other things. He'll ask if you've allied with anyone. If you have a crush, he'll ask you. He'll talk about life back home. The possibilities are endless. We need to be ready for all of them. Ultimately, don't tell him a thing about yourselves."

"So we stay silent the whole time?" I ask.

"Don't tell them anything true. Just play with what I tell you, and you'll pass."

"Why don't we tell them the truth. If they ask about life in the Districts, shouldn't we tell them?" I ask.

"We can't. Things haven't changed enough. Capitol people are more sympathetic, but the government doesn't care about us, yet." Cyrene states. She seems to be more of a political thinker. I'm sure she would be a great asset to some government body one day.

"Who elected you politician?" He asks her.

"I've done a lot of research. I don't learn much in school." Cyrene shrugs.

"Forget it. We can't do anything considered traitorous."

"We can help people change things. I'm scared to tell them, too. But I know that, before I die, I can make a difference."

My mentor slams his hands on the glass coffee table in between us. "Idiot, don't talk like that. If you do that, when you die, I die."

"So you only care about you dying?" I ask.

"That's not what I said."

"Then, why can't I just get it out for once?" Cyrene asks, her face become a little redder.

"Because if...when you do win, you don't want to start a whole new rebellion. Things change slowly. Maybe when you grow up, things will change. Until then, play the roles I give you, and put on a brave face while doing it."

"So what's my role?"

"You're going to be cute, yet strong. Timas, you can do that especially well. You're kind of big for your age," he said. He was right. I did have more muscle from the lumber yards my dad toke me to sometimes. My long, blonde hair helped as well. I even had it tied back to keep it out of my face. "The others your age will be cute, but sad or pitiful. You don't want pity. Maybe you should switch to contacts. Glasses can get in the way. I suggest you get a darker bow than that one, too."

"This is my mom's bow. It's my token."

"Really? You couldn't pick something else?"

I shake my head. He looks down and scribbles on his clipboard. "Fine. Mention that. You're tough, but you love your family. That will help with sponsors. You want support. That reminds me. You need to get an ally. Have you scoped anyone out yet?"

Cyrene takes a quick breath, stopping us from talking. "I noticed that big guy from District Eleven was with those other kids. Maybe we can join with them?"

"I don't know," I say, turning toward her. "He might feel overwhelmed with four younger kids. I really wish I could help him out. I mean, I could pass for fourteen or fifteen. I'd rather leave them alone."

My mentor looks down, tracing his pen over the paper. "How about District Nine? Oh, wait. That's the one with that little girl. Never mind."

"That Aslovee guy is pretty vicious looking. I'd steer clear." Cyrene says.

"It needs to be someone I can keep up with. You know about my breathing," I say. That's a huge disadvantage towards me. If there's on argument I can make against being related to my mother, it's the inherited asthma problems.

"How long can you last without an inhaler?" he asks.

"I haven't used one in seven months." I say.

"Let's hope you won't for another few weeks. Did you notice anything about District Seven?"

"That girl is making a big ruckus with the Careers."

"Right. they'll probably gut her the moment she appears in the arena.

"The boy from District Seven is out, too. I think they'll join up with each other. they probably were boyfriend and girlfriend before." I say.

"Well, you two need to stop being timid and make fast friends, or you'll be stuck with just yourselves. What other outer Districts do we have?"

"Eight. It's that gay guy and the mean-looking girl."

"I don't care if their mean-looking. Just get with them somehow. I can't tell you how to do everything. Just show you can do something, and they'll ally with you. Cyrene, you're a big picture thinker, right. Now you're a strategist. Timas, you're a strong guy. Be the brawns. Now, we need someone versatile that can help people survive. Who can help hunt or gather food."

I stop and stare at the mirror nailed on the wall. Looking at my reflection, I think back to the rest of the Districts. I saw the Careers today, and their alliance is fading fast. We have no real option. We need to come across a District that is as desperate as we are. It needs to be a District that is in dire need of victory. I hate to ride someone's coattails to the last five or eight, but we need to hang on to somebody.

"There is one more District, but it might be a little dangerous." I say.

My mentor looks up and adjusts his glasses. He stares at me, scanning my face for any inkling of my thoughts. Then, he looks at me incredulously, like I'm a old metal patient.

"I hope your talking about District Three?"

"He's talking about the last outer District. The poorest one in Panem." Cyrene says.

* * *

**Joshua "Josh" Adams P.O.V**

This temptation to run out of the room and bury my head in my pillow is too much for me. It is drowning my insides, making me twitch every few seconds in impatience. I don't know why our "mentor" called us in here today. It could be a myriad of reasons. By the way, I say mentor like that because he isn't really a mentor. He was assigned to us. That stupid Mockingjay figure ruined it for us. Now, our climb up this hill is tougher than ever before.

When the middle-aged man in the polo white shirt bursts through the door, my eyes are drooping from fatigue. We need to hurry up so I can sleep. This s important, but being rested is much better than someone talking about how incompetent of a District we are.

I turn to Venus. She is munching on a rice ball right now. The blue-eyed girl turns to me, her mouth full of the grain.

"Want some? It's authentic from District Nine." She says with her mouth full.

Venus is a pretty free-spirited person. She is really nice, and I don't think she has gotten upset these entire Games from what I've seen. She also looks amazing for a District Twelve girl. She reminds me a little of the former mayor's daughter with darker hair. She's been very inviting and friendly. That being said, I think she's hiding something. She can't be that confident in herself.

Of course, there is another reason my trust is waning. She reminds me of her. Don't act like you don't know who I'm talking about. I hate everything about the "Mockingjay" now. I can't stomach the symbol, the consequences, the crackdowns on our houses. Even the graffiti of it outside on the ramshackle buildings make me sick. And to top it off, Venus is an amazing archer. She's different than Katniss since she is more personable and confident, but tat bow and arrow is unmistakable. Sorry, Venus. Nothing personal. It's all about that fail of a "symbol of hope".

The guy sits down in front of us, and he clears his throat. "Okay, you two. We need to get ready for these interviews. First off, we need to discuss something important. Venus, stop eating that rice ball."

"I'm sorry. Do you want some?" She asks while holding it in her hand.

"You've caused me a lot of trouble today. Did you actually go up to a Career and ask to join them?"

"I asked them to join me. They deserve my help." She says.

"Idiot," I turn towards her. "You really think they care about you?"

"Of course not. I just want to be open to any help. If I can pal it up with them, then the possibilities are endless."

"You don't pal up with the Careers. Do you know what you've just done?"

"I'm just trying to help. Maybe they will let me in." Venus says while her face falls.

"Don't think your puppy dog look is going to fix things. You should have known better," I say.

She stands up and points at the mentor. "Come on, man. We can do this. I guarantee they will like me."

"And what will you do to make them like you?"

"I'll admit. Calling that guy 'the milkman' was probably not the way to go. How about I apologize?"

"Yes, because apologizing will really help out."

"Can you please stop it. I'm trying to make things better for us. I didn't mean to hurt anybody."

"Tough luck. This is the Games. Making nice with people won't work."

"It did two years ago."

The mentor reaches over towards Venus. Then, like a wasp hitting an electric lantern, he slaps Venus right on her cheek. She falls over onto the couch before bouncing off it like a ball hitting a wall. She tumbles over and collapses onto the ground. The room seems to be at a standstill, and I feel so conflicted. On one hand, I was this close to slapping sense in this pointlessly confident girl. Then again, seeing her actually hurt makes me boil up in anger. Not because of her getting hit, but the mentor thinks he is above us because he isn't from District Twelve. His subtle jabs at the District, the way he glares at me and Venus, and the disrespect towards us as tributes is enraging.

I whip my head towards the mentor, who is looking down at Venus like she is a cockroach. "Don't you mention those two pieces of dirt. You deserve everything you get towards you."

At this, I've had enough. I hated the Capitol to begin with, but I can't stand this anymore. I run over, pushing my long hair away from my blue eyes. I take my arm and thrust it right at his face. I knock him down, and I begin to pummel him into the red carpet. He screams out, putting his hands up to shield his face from being attacked. I keep hitting, feeling my knuckles start to ache in the repeated punches. Just then, I feel myself lifted off him. Venus is standing behind me, wrapping her arms around me to pull me away. I stop while staring at her. We look right at each other, her eyes painted red with tears threatening to fall.

I'm sorry," She says. Suddenly, she twirls around and escapes the room, turning left towards the bedrooms.

Just my luck. Not only do I hate the Capitol even more, but now I feel sad for the person I originally was disliking. To feel bad for her is like feeling bad for your highness, Miss Everdeen. This is the weirdest I've felt since I learned about my biological father.

My family life is pretty weird. I'm not as mad about it as before, but in times like these, I start to feel it again. I run my hands across my eyes, and I exit the room. I don't even pay attention to the groans of my fake mentor, rolling on the ground in agony. I scale the hallway, passing the various ornate paintings and oak doors until I come across the one across the hall from me. I knock once.

"Come in," a shaky voice says.

I walk in, and I see the dark room, lit only by the bright skyline of shopping malls and office buildings. The room is quite large. A giant wardrobe spins with a plethora of outfits ready to show off. A door leading to the bathrooms stands next to the mini-fridge stocked with various nuts and waters. I could go for some alcohol right now. I may have to sneak into that other guy's room and get some. The walls are a paper white, and the beds are resting on a sleek metal foundation and covered with caramel bedding.

Venus is sitting on the farthest end of the bed, turned around to face the window. She has her head in her hands, and her sniffles fill the room. I sigh, letting myself soak in the scene. I'm terrible when it comes to comforting. I've never been able to fluff things up by talking about how great things would be. I stay realistic, and the most I can say is trash talk about our mentor.

I walk over to Venus. Making sure there is plenty of space between us, I lower myself to the cool sheets. Venus is still sobbing next to me, closed off to my presence.

"He's a real dick. I wouldn't let it bother me," I say.

She silences her cries, but she still keeps her head hidden.

"Why did you pull me off, though? I thought you would like to see that?"

She turns towards me. Her cheeks are puffed up and flushed. Tear strokes are running down her face, and her hair is bunched up in the front. "I just feel like I messed up. I'm not stupid. I know it's a long shot to get good allies. If I did, though, I can do really good. I just want to get home to my twin sisters, so I can hunt illegally once again."

"If you win, you won't have to ever hunt again," I say.

"You know what I mean. Actually, I think I am stupid. I messed everything up."

"You didn't. It's this whole system that is fucked up. Not you. If you want to make powerful allies, go for it. If you want to stay brave and independent, then be that. We may not have much time left, so if there was a time to have no regrets, it's now."

Venus contemplates my words. Looking back, I guess I don't see how Venus would have made things worse. The Careers will probably go after District Seven before her, and they would try and kill her regardless. Either way, our chances of death are about the same. Either we die of the bat, or we suffer until we die. Venus might as well be in a good position before that happens, even if I don't like her.

She sniffles again and wipes her eyes. Then, she actually gives me a small smile. "I'm sorry. I'm just really stressed out. I don't know what I'm doing."

"It's okay. I don't either."

We sit in silence, wallowing in the shallow sea of peace. The skyline buzzes with life, and the people below continue to cheer in excitement for the Games.

"In the meantime I think I can try and get a younger kid to ally with. But I'm still holding out on the ohters"

"You can worry about that later. Just relax."

* * *

**Talon Brock P.O.V**

I'm sitting at the bar in the large main area. It's a warm place, and the swiveling barstools are fun to spin on. Sirch is sitting next to me, cracking up at me. I guess he likes to laugh a little bit. As I toy around with the empty wine bottles on the bar, a women in a yellow sundress walks in. She's carrying a bottle of apple cider in her hand, and three gasses in her other one. She crosses over the room before setting them down on the white counter.

"You want any?" She asks.

Sirch and I nod like kids in a candy shop. She smiles and pours us the drinks.

"Thanks, Trailina," Sirch says.

"Thanks, ma'am. I haven't had apple cider since the beef festival last year." I say. "You remember the beef festival, right? Old Clonker got Best in show at the cow competition. I also finished third in herding. You remember that?"

Trailina giggles. "Of course I remember. I was a judge, after all."

"So you two knew each other before? I thought you were just being nice on the train."

"Absolutely, Sirch. Me and Trailina go way back. I had to help with a fence for her cattle. I couldn't do the barbed wire, so she helped me out."

"I bet you still couldn't make one of I forced you to." She says. We share another laugh, which Sirch joins in on.

"So, why did you call us here?" I ask.

"Well, underlings, we have to go over the rest of training. Sirch, I understand you're smooth with the sword."

"How did that happen," I ask. I am surprised. Swords aren't really something to gather at the District.

"When I was younger, I got into a fight with one of the tributes from the District. After that, I found one of the victors from a few years back to train me. You know Buford, right?"

"That idiot taught you how to fight with swords."

"Yeah. Then, my brother died in the Games. I've kind of wanted to come here to prove that us Lichens are tough."

"You didn't need to come here to do that," I say while draining the apple cider from the warm glass.

I know that Sirch is faking this. He can't be here just to avenge his brother. If he is, then he is acting way to excited to do this. I thought most revenge cases were dark and depressive. Either way, I don't know what to think about him. I guess he seems down-to-earth. He was brave enough to yell at one of the District Three guys earlier today. He certainly means business.

"You keep up that swordplay. Talon, you're good at ranching, right?"

"I'm strong at it. Just doing my job." I say with a smile.

"You're strong in general. You're also quite fast, so I think you should try and keep those calisthenics up. We will figure out what to do during the judges sessions later. For now, I want to know how you all are."

How am I? For starters, I'm still kind of nervous. I guess that nervousness is leaving since I've started training. I've also tried my hand at throwing axes, and I'm actually competent at it. I'm in that weird place between being nervous and anxious. People think they are the same, but they are different. Nervous is for a reason. Anxious is for no reason. I have a reason to be nervous, but should I be anxious. I'm sorry, I don't know what I am talking about.

"I'm doing good. I tried swording with a guy from Seven, and I won twice."

"I don't think swording is a word," I say.

"Good. I just want to check on you two. You need to be careful and keep your eyes open."

Good advice. I'm worried that my kind of sassy personality will be too much to handle for other allies. When it comes to the others, they've avoided me pretty much the whole time. I guess throwing that axe at the dummy in the shooting range instead of the throwing range was too weird for them. Eating only beef is weird for them, too. I can't help it. That meat is actually from District Ten. It's amazing.

I now I have to keep this up. I need to keep running and use my strengths. I can use my hands alright. I'm nice and limber. Finally, I'm used to being strong from ranching. You can't be a lightweight. You have to fight.

That sums up the whole Games for me.

* * *

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	24. Training Day 3: Can I do interviews now?

**Romeo Caliteo P.O.V**

My body aches and creaks with every movement I make. My arms feel a little worn, and my torso is bruised from my weight session yesterday. Or maybe something else.I shift my legs, causing a shuffling of the white sheets. I keep stretching, until my leg hits another. I turn on my side, where Satine is sleeping. I grin at the sight; her blonde hair is sprawled on the white pillow, and her body covered up by the crisp, warm sheets.

After smiling at my latest conquest, I sneak off of the bed. I need to treat her right. She needs to sleep in. With only my boxers on, I squeak the door open, and I tiptoe down the hallway, the padding of my feet muting the steps on the marble floor. When I reach the kitchen, there is nobody there. It is still a little early in the day. Training doesn't start for another two hours. Looking in the fridge, I reach in for some eggs and ham. I scour the cabinets for a pan, and finally come across a metallic skillet. With a press of a button, the stove glows red to life.

As I start cooking, I question myself. What am I looking for, exactly? I don't want to just have a one night stand. In my District, the girls were so obvious. They just wanted to sleep with me, and leave it at that. Even though I can't say I don't enjoy it, I've always wanted a real relationship. I want more out of a girl than one night. No one would give it to me, though.

So what am I doing with Satine? This is the Games. Romances die here. I can't help myself. This girl didn't just ignore me after one night. She could actually be into me. I want a girl that actually cares, so is that Satine? I know it isn't smart, but I can't control it. It's a disease that is spreading through me faster than the rising smoke from the eggs on the stove. Here is a girl that might have more to her than any of those others. She knows Shakespeare. She loves the fine arts. She can kick ass in the training center. You know what? Who cares if it's just for a few more weeks. I'm going to make this count. I'll show her a true gentleman, even if it kills me (no pun intended. I actually don't want to die.).

When the food is done, I grab a small vase off of the coffee table. I snatch a white rose from the bouquet of flowers on a stand by the door. Plopping it in, I grab a tray and carry it over to the bed. I open the door, and see that she is still sleeping. She deserves to get her beauty sleep. I sit on the edge, looking at the tray and waiting for her to wake up. I know that one of us may die, but I don't want to think about the future. I want to be the perfect gentleman for her. Then, when the Games begin, we can fight the rest off together.

Who knows? Maybe there will be two tributes again. I promise I won't start a rebellion.

Okay, now I'm officially stupid.

I hear a soft moan, and I see Satine's amazing blue-green eyes. I take the tray and place it in front of her, and she sits up. I smile at her, and she returns it.

"Hey, love. Sleep well?"

"After what you did last night, I needed some rest."

Okay, not the response I was hoping for. I need to get away from any sexual talk for a second.

"I took the liberty of making some food. That okay, princess?"

She laughs. "Princess? You really are trying to be Romeo."

I grin at her and scoot in towards her. She rests her head on my shoulder. "I'm just making sure you have as much fun as I am."

"You don't disappoint. What are you doing for training today?"

I mentally groan. I really don't want to think about the Games. I know it is inevitable, but I just want to stay in what is happening right now. "I'll probably work on speed. I want to outrun anybody. Can you keep up if I'm faster."

She nods. "Of course. I love how you automatically assume I'm slower than you."

I cringe and lean back while looking at her. "Sorry, but that's not what I meant at all. Do you want some more juice?"

"I haven't even drunk any."

"I'll help you with that," I say. I pull the tray off her and by my legs. Then, I wrap my arms around her. She giggles as I tug on her. Getting the idea, she climbs onto my lap, and I take the fork and wave it in front of her. She gives me a blank look.

"I can lift my hands, thank you. I only rode you once last night."

Again with the crudeness. That's expected from a Career, so I'll let it slide. "I just want to help. Can I ask you something?"

She stops as I put the fork down. Shifting her body to face me, her grin dissipates at my frown. "Something wrong?"

I might as well get my fears out now. "Am I just a one-night thing for you?"

"A one-night stand?"

"Yeah. What I mean is, am I more to you than this?" I say, gesturing at ourselves.

She looks at me, her face inches away from mine. This is too long of a silence. I have no idea what she is thinking about. Is she going to lie? Is she going to say I am just a guy to release her stress off of? Will she say that I am more? What if she is just tugging me along for a heartbreaking ride? What if she doesn't care?

"You're a lot more than just a one-night stand," she says. "Your funny, cool, strong, cultured, and you make pretty good ham and eggs." She says with a chuckle. I can't help but laugh with her. Suddenly, she leans in and gives me a passionate kiss. My eyes close, and I return it, tilting my head as I run my hands through her silk hair. When I pull back, I see her eyes, and how they crinkle in happiness.

If she is lying, I don't care. I have something real, even if it is for a few weeks.

**Koring Evans P.O.V**

I shouldn't even try and train. These bitches think they actually have a chance, don't they? News flash! They don't. It's probably going to be another career year. Everything will be just as miserable as before. I knew that whole rebellion thing was just going to pass. Whatever. It's not like it matter to me. Hell, if probably be dead in a few years regardless of these games. Fucking homophobe peacekeepers.

I go over to a punching bag and put on some gloves. I think they are just there for formality. I should punch them bare-knuckled, but I get an odd satisfaction at the thumping from the bag. I keep pounding on it, until I see a guy with messy, curly blonde hair and pale blueish grey eyes. He is much taller than me, and a little pale. I recognize him as the male from District One.

"What do you want?" I shout at him.

"Lighten up. I just came to see what was going on." He says.

"I'm training. Leave me alone." I shout.

"I'm training, too. I wanted to use the punching bag? Can I join."

I finish off a flurry of punches before stepping back. "Whatever. I won't do good with this shit anyway."

"That's no way to talk. You can do anything you set-."

"Your mind to. Thank you, mister sage. Can I plan out my death in peace, please?" I ask.

He lets out a light chuckle. "You daydream, too? I do it all the time when I'm not training."

"Daydream? Since when do you all daydream?" I ask.

"We have fantasies, too. You know, I thought you would be more open-minded."

"There's nothing to be open minded about. What are you doing here?"

"I said I'm training," he says. Just then, his face falls into a frown. "Do you not like me?"

"Of course not," I say. "Why would I? Especially since you're with those other freaks."

"We aren't freaks. I'm not, anyway. Come on, why don't you train with me," He asks with a smile.

"Leave me alone, asshole." say. I know I'm being the real asshole here, but I don't want his help. Why is he even asking me for that?

His face falls again, and he sighs in defeat. "Fine. If you wanna be that way, then I won't bother you. Don't be so rude next time, though. I'll be over here when you want to apologize."

"Guess you'll be stuck there forever."

His head falls to his chest and he turns around. He sulks away, and I almost feel bad for the guy. He might have actually wanted to make nice with me. I know how his kind works, though. He was just going to turn around and stab me in the back when the time came. I need to keep to myself, and never trust anyone. That's what my father told me when it came to the Games. I forgot to mention that my dad was a former victor, didn't I. He won, which is why we lived so well off. I probably cause him a lot of trouble, especially when I got caught by that Peacekeeper. He may disown me before these Games begin.

I don't need to care. I have my own issues to work out. Like how I'm going to build my knuckles up to knock someone the fuck out.

**Aaron Artaga P.O.V**

"Camouflage, Eva. That is how we're going to make it."

Eva-Marie slaps me on the back of my head. That girl is going to be the death of me. Maybe for real.

I remember when we first met. My parents took me to this ice cream place across the District one time. We walked in, and I was stunned. There were so many types of ice cream, and I could have any one of them that I wanted. I climbed up on tall barstool. When I reached the top, I put my elbows on the counter and leaned forward. My parents gave me some money and left. They said they were going shopping.

While I sat there, I didn't notice the girl right next to me. She tapped me on my shoulder. The moment I turned around and saw her wide green eyes, I knew that this was a girl I wanted to be around. Then, she slapped me on the back of my head.

I wanted to know her badly after that.

"Do you eat in a barn? Don't put your elbows on the counter."

I rubbed my head, grimacing as I recovered from the soon-to-be-bruised area. "You didn't have to hit me over it."

"Yeah, I did. Now, you'll remember not to do it next time. The pain helps you learn."

Even when she was little, she was evil.

"Excuse me, young man. Is there anything I can get you?" The bald man behind the counter asked.

I grinned and looked up at the chalkboard hanging on the ceiling. It swung from the draft going through the open door, letting in the warm air. "I'll have a large banana split." Suddenly, I heard Eva-Marie clear her throat.

"You don't now any manners, do you? You're supposed to get the girl something, too. That's what my mom told me. They're divorced now."

I sigh and point at the board. "I'll have the small vanilla cone."

She gasped and swiveled in her chair. She was fuming. "I meant something of equal or greater value. What is with you?" She squeaked in her high voice.

I turned my head and grinned in secret. She groaned in frustration. A few minutes later, the guy came over and handed me the split. Then, he handed her the small cone. She scowled at the cone, already starting to drip in her hand.

"Hold on, sir. She's supposed to have the split."

Eva-Marie gasps and turns back to me. "You thought I was going to have the split right in front of you?"

Out of nowhere, she let out a smile. She handed me the cone while I slid the banana split over the crystalline counter.

"I guess you know a thing or two after all, blockhead."

There comes a moment in somebody's life where they cross from strangers to acquaintances. Then, to friends. Very rarely, they'll get to best friends. We bypassed the first two slots altogether. I knew that we would become best friends right then and there.

As I try my hand at the bow and arrow, I keep staring at Eva-Marie, who is flinging small axes and knives like skipping stones. She alternates between the two, grabbing an axe from a rack, tossing it, then flicking a knife away. It's a robotic and mesmerizing routine, and it blows me away.

"Excuse me. Could you move please. I need to brush up."

Katniss number two stands by the arrow rack with a sheepish smile. Wouldn't you know it? The one time I can ogle Eva-Marie in peace, and Twelve has to butt in. I drop my bow and arrow and leave, making a beeline towards Eva-Marie. As I approach her, she is locked into her knives, along with the guy from Two, who is bouncing the handles of the knives off the dummy.

"Stop embarrassing yourself, Two. Go back to the weights where you belong." Eva-Marie says.

Why does she keep taunting the Careers? We almost got electrocuted last time. Two goes over and flashes his knife at her.

"You better watch it, girl. I'll scalp you right now.

Uh huh. No way, Jose. I step forward and grab on of the axes off the rack. I heave it into my arms, cradling it in my hands. "You trying to start something? Remember what happened last time."

"I would've beat you two a pulp if you didn't try and dodge like the bitches you are."

"Shut up. You can't even spell 'bitches.'"

"I can't help it if people use bigger words here. Shut up, and mind your own business." He says. Flipping us off, he mumbles to himself. I look over at Eva-Marie, who gives me a quick hug from behind.

"Nice. Although, I'm the one that scared them off."

"I'm the one with a knife."

Eva chuckles and lets me go. "Wanna have a quick contest?"

"Sadly, I must decline. I don't have good aim."

"You don't need to. Just flick and hit."

I nod my head. "You can flick and hit, and I'll keep threatening people. We'll make it for sure."

* * *

**How do I get so much out in one day? Summertime! I've applied to nine places, and nobody has responded. Lucky for you all, I guess.**

**Question: What was the main character's name in American Beauty, and who killed him? (Sorry for spoilers, but the movie came out in 1999.)**

**The new, updated poll is now open for business. Please look at it and participate in it. It could effect the Games. Get your friends, you rneighbors, your step-dads, everyone you can into the poll! It is imperative to the success of this story. **

**Leave as constructive reviews as possible. Those are the only ones that count for sponsor points. Thank you. See you soon!**


	25. Training Day 4: Housekeeping

Jerome watched above in his glass box over the bustling training center. The careers are working on weaponry, a few younger kids are trying to set snares and make fires, and a few odd men out are still going at it with weapons.

Personally, Jerome was somewhat intrigued about the field this year. Not because they were decent people, mind you. He had no idea who was allying with who. It seemed up in the air.

Not to mention, the sponsors were up in arms over the whole situation. They clamored at Jerome, trying to get an inside tract on the Games. Jerome wouldn't budge, though. He had gone through to much to be stopped by a few reporters and sponsors.

A quick knock on the door, and his secretary in her brown skirt and high heels walked in. Jerome sat down at the long glass table, and she slapped down a folder of papers.

"I'm starting to wonder if these papers actually say anything," he said.

"It's okay. I don't read them either. You should look at these, though. We've done some snooping, and we think we know what to expect in these Games."

"You can predict the future?" Jerome asked while rolling his eyes.

"Of course not. This is who we think will work together, who won't, ect. Also, some info on the sponsors."

Jerome bucked up and flipped ope the manila folder. He saw the biographies of all the tributes, neatly packed into one notebook. Flipping over to the back, he saw a list of the tributes, some of them grouped together in small boxes.

**Tentative Possible Alliances**

Pretty redundant, Jerome thought. Gonna have to fire someone from the spell check department.

* * *

**The Careers**

Glint Mugg-District 1

Satine La'more-District 1

Slate Bedford-District 2

Romeo Caliteo-District 4

Paige Parker-District 4

**Possible Careers**

Cadmium Ruse-District 2

Eva-Marie Green-District 7

Aaron Artaga-Distrcit 7

Venus Whitmore-District 12

* * *

"Hold up for a second," Jerome said. "Why is the District Two guy a 'possible?' And where the hell does Seven and Twelve fit in?"

The secretary sighed. "Well, I'll fill you in. Cadmium was approached by Venus to join the careers, because Venus is a hyper showoff-y bitch. Same with Eva-Marie, except she's the one that started the fight. The Careers are thinking of letting her in. If they do, she's taking her 'guy friend' Aaron with her. I assume it's so Slate could kill her faster for hitting her the first day. Cadmium may also leave the careers and join Venus because he thinks he'll have a better chance with her."

"Why would he think that?" Jerome asked.

"I'll give you a second to think about why. Anyway, keep going."

Jerome looked down at the paper, continuing to scan the names and boxes.

* * *

**District Alliances**

Probable

Aaron Artaga-District 7

Eva-Marie Green-District 7

Caz Indianno-District 6

Monette Zacharias-District 6

Possible

Timas Etienne-District 5

Cyrene Polymer-District 5

**Miscellaneous Alliances**

Older-Younger Trio (Probable)

Xavier Thomas-District 9

Monette Zacharias-District 6

Caz Indianno-Distrcit 6

Electric Duo (Possible)

Arlyne Hunter-District 3

Cleo Ellis-District 8

WTF Trio (OR Quartet) (Probable in some variation)

Cadmium Ruse-District 2

Cyrene Ploymer-District 5 OR Ambrosi Finley- District 8

Venus Whitmore-District 12 AND/OR Eva-Marie Green-District 7

* * *

"So you are basically telling me you don't what is going to happen?"

The secretary shrugged. "I mean, the sponsors could nudge them in a direction, but we ultimately have no control over this. Venus says she wants to get a younger kid with her. For what reason, I don't know. If Eva-Marie doesn't get to the Careers, she'll probably go with the next best thing, assuming Cadmium splits from the Careers, which is definitely a possibility."

"Why are you mentioning them in names?"

The secretary looked at Jerome, her face wired with surprise. "Why wouldn't I mention them in name?" She asks slowly.

"Just calling them numbers is good enough."

"Do you even know the names of the tributes?"

"Honestly, I have no idea who is from what district. Just tell me in numbers, please?"

"How about we talk about sponsors for a second. Let's go over how much they have saved up for the Games."

* * *

**The Sponsors**

Platrium-75 points

sonofthetrigod-70 points

DecidedlyDestiel-35 points

I'mAFishy-50 points

TheGrammerHawk- 60 points

grandvizier527-25 points

sofaloaf3-20 points

xSakura-Kissesx-35 points

LaceyTheLiar-25 points

XymenaFalling-35 points

KhaalidaNyx-30 points

* * *

"That's all we got for now," she said.

"Fine. Leave me to my scotch, please."

"That's apple juice."

"Same difference.

* * *

**If anybody feels left out, please let me know. Also, please get as many people as possible to be in the poll. Even people who don't have tributes in these Games. **

**Question: What do you think of the alliances? Who would make the best alliances at the moment? Comment and let me know. This is a crucial part, because this WILL effect the Games. Thank you!**


	26. Training Day 4: Last Call

**Jacob "Jay" O'Conner**

These kids are so weird. I look around the training center, and I see the same childish stuff that any group of teenagers do. It just happens to be with weapons. Honestly, I'm surprised people don't seem as upset about their imminent deaths as I am. Then again, who knows when we would have died to begin with. The dangers of the Districts are bad enough. You can't stand anywhere in Three without being shocked by an extension cord or motherboard. Death has no calendar, after all. That's what my grandparents told me. Our family lives a long time. I would like to continue that tradition.

I'm on the stealth course in the farthest end of the training area. It is a densely-grown path covered in prickling ferns and other greenery. There is a sensor in a small box posted on a metal pole, and it spins like a ballerina on the top. The goal is to hide from the motion sensor that is scanning the moist foliage. The humidity is higher, and the air conditioning seems to have escaped this area, leaving an oasis of heat in the mock forest.

I hug the dirt and crawl through the plants, collapsing tips of the ferns with my grimy elbows. I start to invade the area around the clear dirt pit packed around the sensor. I let out a slow breath, hooking my long blonde behind my ears. The moment the sensor moves, I spring to action. I push on my heels and propel over the estuary between the dirt and greenery. The sensor starts to pull around towards me. Right before it reaches the end of its rotation, I scramble to full height. My hands slam onto the red button above the sensor, and it turns off.

I throw a fist in the air. I may have this stealth thing down. I was decent before, but this is the third time in a row that I've beaten it.

I hear a slow clapping behind me. I start to roll my eyes as I turn around. It's the girl from District Six. I've seen her poke around the traps and throwing range with a metal boomerang. She has wide purple eyes and tanned skin. Purple eyes. I may have seen it all. She also has long brown hair. She is thin. When her hair is shifted back behind her head, she has a long scar on her neck.

"Thank you for your support. Do you want an autograph?" I say, my face falling at her when she puts on a small smile.

She shakes her head.

"You want me to teach you? I'm sure it would help out." I say facetiously.

She shakes her head.

Why isn't she saying anything? These tributes are all chatterboxes. She should be no different. Even the shy ones are loud.

"So, wanna cookie or something?"

She shakes her head.

"Can you speak, please? I feel like I'm talking to a wall."

My grandparents told me a lot about foot-in-mouth disorder. It's an old saying that very few remember. Basically, you say something you regret after you realize the part that your wrong about. It can't be small, though. It has to be something very important.

The moment she shook her head and pointed at her throat, I was ready for the Games to begin.

I slump my head and let out a huge sigh. "Sorry. I must have woken up in the wrong dimension this morning. You're mute?"

She gives me a thumbs up.

"What do you want from me, though?" I ask.

The girl points at my feet. Looking down, I see a wooden boomerang, but I immediately hop back at the sight. On the boomerang, a group of knives are bound together by limber twine, effectively making a flying chainsaw. I take my thumb and index finger and lift it up like I'm tying the loose shoe string on her training shoes. I hand it to her like it is a rare gem, and she snatches it from me. Pretty brave girl, to be honest.

"I didn't mean that stuff from before. I guess I thought the Games screened people before hand for any physical issues," I gasp at that last thought. "Not saying that you're any less capa-. Forget it. I didn't mean anything."

She signs something to me. I'm hoping it meant thank you. For all I know, she might have "spoken" some terrible insult at me. She turns around and starts to walk away. I feel really bad. Not pity, but regret from my end. As my life starts to close in on me, I shouldn't let myself hurt other people before these Games occur. There will be plenty of time for that.

"Wait a minute."

She whips around as I walk up to her. I don't know what I'm doing. I hope nobody is watching me. I take a quick breath, and we just stand there, our eyes meeting between this invisible wall. I could sum up my whole social life that way. Always blocked off, and always bound by my own expectations of society. Or maybe I just say funny things.

"Don't let people talk like shit to you. If they do, don't pay any attention towards them, alright? I hate people that think they're opinion is so important to the world. If people think something of you, let them. Don't believe for a second that you're any less. Oh, geez," i ruffle my hair in frustration. "You probably know this already. I'm just embarrassing myself, aren't I. Just go and do what you were doing before. Forget what I said."

As I turn around, she taps me on the shoulder. I see her, and she mouths something at me. Then, she takes her defiled boomerang and heads towards her District Partner from Six, and Xavier from District Eleven.

I swore she just mouthed a "thank you."

* * *

**Edan Jibril**

Lunch is always awkward for me. First off, they give us this nice looking slice of ham, and some good water. There is a whole bunch of other stuff you could have, but I go for the smaller things. I like to save the food for later. I only like to eat when I feel hungry. If I don't feel hungry, I save it for later. Although, there is one thing I can't deny myself of. It is the fruit. Starfruit, papaya, apples, oranges, it is a rainbow of colors, and I can't help myself from them. I remind myself of a monkey when I eat all of this fruit. It makes me giggle a little bit. So when I tuck the pieces of mashed potatoes on the plastic bag I carry around with me, I take a quick peek around me to make sure nobody is around to watch me. I keep to myself around the outer edges of the room they have us in overlooking the training center. It is below this bigger box above us that holds the judges.

I'm not too worried about the judges. I heard people in our District rarely get anything above a six or seven. I'm really nervous, and I am afraid of what is going to happen to me. Before my mother died, she always told me when I was in a bad place to look forward to the good times I'll have in that lace. I can't think of many during the Games, but I will like those moments of peace. Where I can take in the silence and the beauty of the nature around me. I can look up in the sky, and the stars will be twinkling like the street lights outside. These lights will be pure and wonderful. Not those other lights from lightbulbs.

I don't like to talk about my mother, but since I'm thinking about here as the Games go by, I want to tell people about her. My mom was killed by a Peacekeeper for doing something called prostitution. My dad told me he would explain what it was when I was older. I learned from people talking at the general stores it has something to do with selling yourself and having sex with others. I get that having sex makes babies, but I don't quite get why someone would want babies with someone they didn't know. I now know it wasn't for more children, but for money. My mom wouldn't do that, though. Her and dad loved each other. Since then, I've barely seen him. I hope that one day, even if it is soon, I'll learn what he is doing. A small part of me thinks he is trying to prove my mom's innocent, but it won't bring her back.

The people here have treated my kindly enough. Sort of. The people that don't talk give me plenty of things, and they bring out the food to me. My mentor is also really nice. She tells me all I need to know, and she helped pick out my dress for the interviews. She even calmed me down when I got upset the past few days. Aslovee has been mean, though. He just stares at me whenever I talk to him. The most conversation we've had was the other night, where I talked about the city and sky with him. I don't know what he thinks about me, and he looks scary.

The others are okay. The group called Careers are kind of stuck up, but that girl and boy from District Four seem nice. The others just shout at each other. There's a pair around my age that are good. It's a mute girl who sticks to this louder kid like hot glue on construction paper. They are around this larger boy who looks more like their guardian than anything else. Maybe I'll find my way on their good side by the time the Games start. A boy from District Seven looks like he would help me, but he seems dead-set on following his District partner. I like people that are quieter, but would be stronger than me. I can be fast, so maybe it will balance out to good. Maybe that girl from District Twelve. I remember the Games from two years ago. Katniss and that little girl from District Eleven made a good team. She seems nice, and she seems like she would like me.

I just need to find somebody. I can't imagine these Games by myself.

* * *

**Casmond "Cad" Indianno**

Have you ever felt mad and sad at the exact same time? Whenever my parents asked my if I was upset, I didn't know what to answer. Was I mad upset, or sad upset? If I said I was upset, my parents wouldn't know what to think.

This situation is a disaster. There's no way I can win the Games. Even If I could, I wouldn't want to. Monette needs to survive. End of story. My death has been planned, and it's going to happen in about two days. The only thing that could help me is Xavier. He's tall, strong, and he seems like a nice guy that won't double-cross us.

I'm going to die.

This freaks me out so badly. I've tried to hide it. I've talked louder and faster. Me and Monette have worked on a boomerang with knives sticking through it. Xavier has taught us some tips to be stronger, like posture and breathing. He'll be a brick wall, protecting us from the elements until it's too late. I don't care. I'm still going to die. What if Monette dies before me? I won't be able to even cry. I'll just wait by here, and wait until I die, too. I don't want to think like this, but there is no hope.

The breaking point for me is happening right now. Me and Monette are tying our hundredth snare today, making sure we have our food routine down pat. I keep thinking about these problems, and my heart keeps beating faster and faster. My eyes keep lifting up to Monette. She's so amazing. She has such a great attitude, even when we know our chances are almost non-existent. I'm breathing harder and faster. I feel my mouth dry up, and my nose is starting to get runny.

"Having fun, Monette?" I ask trying to stomp out the sniffles into the dust.

She looks up at me. I think she knows I'm sad upset, but she smiles and nods anyway.

"I think this is great. We've been practicing, and...I think we'll be experts when this is over. Just imagine. We'll catch everything in that arena. It will be a sinch. Before you know it, everyone will just starve out, and we will still be alive. Just you and me, Monette. We'll be able to figure things out. Then, after we wait it out, we'll be the finalists. We can figure it out. We will be the finalists, and we'll plan what we will do next. When it's just us left, we can... We c-can... I-I know we ca-."

That was it. I keep looking down. The tears are singing my eyes. I can't keep them in anymore. My shoulder start to shake. I'm sniffling eve harder. Before I know it, I'm crying harder than I ever have in my entire life. I'm crying so hard, I can only see the outline of Monette, who takes my hand in hers. I'm trying to not be loud, but a few gasps come out from me. I've probably sealed our fate for sure. I already notice a few tributes looking at me. Them seeing me makes me cry even harder. I'm just a stereotypical, run-of-the-mill twelve year old who will die in the bloodbath. No doubt about it. The Careers will kill me first, unless someone else beats them to it. I'm just an easy kill, and a weak one, too.

Suddenly, I feel a hand touch my shoulder. I turn around, and I see the dark skin of Xavier reach down towards me. "Hush up, Caz," He says softly. "You'll be okay. Just keep it calm."

I still feel my tears. The only thing a little okay about this is that we are hidden just a bit from the others. I know they still see us, though.

"Hey," A new voice reaches out at me. The boy from District Five appears around the bush we sit behind. "You need some help? I can do something, if you want"

"We're in this together, you know. Things will be okay. Just relax." Xavier says.

I start to calm down. I need to be more like Monette, positive and strong. I have people that will look out for me. That's more than I can say about other people. On top of that, there are people that care about me. For every thing I'm doing wrong, I'm doing something right. You know what? I could have done a million things wrong, but there is one thing that I've done right. And it makes up for everything. I met Monette. The only thing I needed to accomplish in my short life, and she might be the best thing that's ever happened to me.

I let out a thin smile, and I give Monette a quick hug. She pushes me closer to her. She is so warm and comforting, like soft blanket covering me in a blizzard.

"Thanks. I don't know how I'd get through this," I look up at the other kid. "Who are you?"

"I'm Timas. I'm usually not this blunt, but it seems like you guys want a little help. Wanna partner up?"

For some reason, I'm numb to thought. This kid just outright asked to be an ally, even though he saw me break don a few moments ago.

I nod. Even if I don't have a shot, I'll set one up for Monette. Whether she likes it or not, she will be around people that can help her win.

* * *

**The Poll is now in a ten way tie. I am now announcing that there will be ten victors in this year's Games. ;)**

******Question: What two tributes would you ally with at the moment and why? Do not pick careers! That's cheating!**

**Training gambling is now OPEN! If you saw the sponsors list, you will see that you can get a wealth of points for guessing tributes trainings scores. You can guess up to three tributes scores, and they have to be exact. None of this "5 or 6" stuff. Actual guesses.**

**Please leave constructive reviews on the content and characterizations. Those are the only ones that count for the Games.**

**Thank you. See you soon!**


	27. Between The Training: Night 4

**Cleo Ellis**

Whenever my dad starts to get drunk, I sleepover at my friends house. Her name is Mae. We first met at school. It was the second day, and we were in first grade. The classroom was small with white walls. A few safety posters were tacked on some rope. Taping posters on the walls was forbidden in the school. I walked in with my backpack before sitting down by the window in the back. School in our district is a luxury, so I guess my mom's inheritance was enough to tide us over. Dad was already drinking heavily, so mom's will and testament drained like the cold water down my shower drain every morning.

The view outside was ugly. It was just the same dotting of textile mills blanketing the horizon. A few trees obscured the repugnant site, but most of the dying greenery was shifting into a shade of banana-yellow and dried tangerine. They were more like saplings than anything. The only wildlife in this place were the weeds poking out of cracks in the sidewalks.

I sat down, and the teacher started to talk. She was a nice lady, quite frail in her plaid blouse draped over her bony shoulders.

"Hello class," she said. "I'm Miss Grumbly. I've been teaching here four twenty-one years. Since there are only fourteen of us, why don't we go around the room and introduce ourselves. You can talk about anything. Your parents, house, what you did yesterday, anything. Be creative."

Creativity isn't my strong point, so I decided to play it safe. When it was my turn, I stood up and took a quick breath, letting the stares soak in.

"My name is Cleo. I'm seve-."

Could you tell us your full name?" Miss Grumbly asked.

I rolled my green eyes and huffed. "My name is Cleo Ellis. I got my last name from my dad. We live in an apartment a few blocks from here. It's a scary place."

My teacher stammered for a fraction of a second. "Wonderful. Tell us about your parents."

"My mom is dead. She died giving birth to me. My dad says that happens a lot around here. Did that happen to you, Miss Grumbly?"

My teacher stopped, looking around the classroom. She scratched her mousy brown hair, pulling it through her thin fingers. Putting on a smile, she let out a terse laugh. "No, I don't believe so. How is your father, Cleo?"

"He drinks a lot. Other than that, he just yells some stuff I don't understand."

"Well, I think we've learned a lot about Cleo. Give her a hand, class."

I sit down, blocking the polite clapping from my mind. Deep down, I do think this was a small cry for help, but I don't cry, and especially not for help. As the day kept going, Miss grumbly decided to give us some coloring sheets to end the class time. She handed out the papers, which were pictures of clothes and, what else, the Capitol. She told us to take out the crayons we brought to class. I spent some money yesterday on some new crayons to get ready.

As i pulled out my pack of ninety-six drawing sticks, I felt a tapping on my shoulder. I turned around, and saw a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes.

"Are those yours?" She looked a me like I just found a treasure chest. I nodded at her.

"Do you mind if I have a blue one?"

We were friends for life after that.

I remember this from the wardrobe of close twirling in front of me. I keep pressing the buttons with no purpose, letting the colors swirl into one endless loop of flamboyant fabric. I'm looking specifically at the blue dress. It looks just like the one in the picture when we first met. She told me before I left that she believed in me. She knew I could win. I think I can win, too. Why am I so sad, though? I'm in control of my own destiny, so have I made the wrong choice? I keep telling myself that I made the right decision, but that booming voice invading my head says otherwise.

I hear Ambrosi outside talking loudly. He is a very flamboyant kid, much like these clothes. I like him, but he is quite annoying. Of course he would be bisexual, not that there is anything wrong with that. he kid does a good job at hiding his feelings, but I know better. I almost want to hug him and tell him everything will be alright. I don't like to lie, though.

No matter what, I'm in a lose-lose situation. It feels so embarrassing to not know what to do.

**Monette Zacharias**

I get ready to fall asleep. My eyelids are dropping, and I feel my limbs start to sink into the clouds they call beds in the Capitol. Caz is sitting in a plush love seat by me, his hand wrapped around mine. It's times like these where I forget about the Games. They don't feel as important to me as before. Maybe we make it out, maybe we don't. For now, I feel more at peace than anybody around me.

Maybe it is just me, but I almost feel excited.

I've always wanted to go on a big adventure. This is the worst adventure possible, but I can do this with Caz and Xavier. I'm surprised we made friends so quickly with Xavier. He's a big teddy bear, to be honest. I'm liking him more and more. That other kid from District Five is also really good. I think we will all make a good team.

I don't want to think about what will happen next. I just want to sleep.

"Monette," Caz says in his high-pitched voice. I turn my head towards him, giving him a small smile.

I nod at him, letting him know that I am listening.

"You want me to stay here tonight. We only have two more nights here."

I nod my head. He smiles. I see his eyes are bloodshot, and his nose is running again.

"How far will we get, Monette?"

I lift two fingers up towards him, and he lets out a snort.

"That's us, Monette. First and second. We'll figure something out."

I let out a long sigh. For now, I just need to relax. I 'm not thinking about the Games or the judges tomorrow. I want to stay here with Caz, and look out at the pretty skyline outside. Maybe I'll even have those delicious muffins tomorrow.

The Capitol is a great place, but I only want to go home. In the meantime, I'll do what I can to make that happen.

With Caz by my side, anything is possible.

* * *

**I**

**Was**

**Kidding!**

**I was joking when I was saying the poll would determine the winner. It won't! If Monette got 24 votes, that doesn't mean she would win. I will decide the winner, with the sponsors help. End of story! The poll was simply a benchmark to see who people liked. It won't determine the Games. My goodness, take a joke, people.**

**The training scores are next. It is time to get your guesses in for training scores. Guess the tributes scores, and get twenty points each. A limit of three tributes per person. This is you last chance for points, so make it count!**

**Question: How many Oscars did Catching Fire win?**

**I'll give you time to get the guesses in. Thank you. See you soon!**


	28. Training Scores: The Wrath Of Jerome

Jerome perched himself on the couch between the two plastic ferns. He was in his small condominium, elevated to show off the twinkling lights lining the skyscrapers of the Capitol. Inside his little home, he had a small counter with a sleek, metallic kitchen filled with cutlery and glassware. The wals were beige, and his coffee table holding empty coffee mugs. Despite wanting to have everything organizd and neat, he was a complete slob. Piles of old magazines and newspapers were tied up by his door. A few empty garbage bags were scattered by his eating table, but the strangest thing was his cubist painting collection he leaned against his large glass window. He never hung it up. He was just to lazy to do so.

"Time for the show," he said.

He reached for a grey remote and turned on the television, showing Caesar Flickerman's plastic face. The crowd roared behind him, and flashes of cameras dotted the background.

"Hello, and welcome to this year's training score ceremony. How are we doing back there?" The crowd roared in delight as Caesar clapped. "Wonderful. Time to get to the scores. Remember, scores are posted from one to twelve based on the judges session after the tributes training. This determines how apt the tributes are for the Games. As usual, let's start with District One." Caesar squinted his eyes at the telprompter as a graphic on the screen showed the first tributes face.

**District 1**

Our first tribute is Glint Mugg, with a score of..."

**Glint Mugg-9**

"I can live with that." Jerome said with a nod.

"Now, Caesar said. We have Satine La'more who earned a..."

**Satine La'more-8**

"Not bad. Didn't think she had it in her." Jerome said

**District ****2**

"Our next district. Cadmium ruse, the male will receive a..."

**Camium Ruse-9**

"Expected," Jerome said. Soon, Caesar's announcing and the graphics on screen continued to segue into the next tribute.

**Slate Bedford-9**

"Very decent."

**District 3**

**Jay O'Connor-7**

"Not bad for District Three,"

**Arlyne Hunter-7**

"Wow. A pair of sevens. They might do okay this year." Jerome took a bowl of ice cream in front of him and started to eat from it.

**District 4**

**Romeo Caliteo-10**

"Whoa," Jerome said, drawing out his surprise. "I thought a nine or eight. Judges are getting soft."

**Paige Parker-9**

"A nine?" Jerome's mouth hung open for a second. "The judges are soft."

**District 5**

**Timas Etienne-6**

"Better than I expected."

**Cyrene Polymer-6**

"Nothing special. Meh."

**District 6**

**Casmond Indianno-4**

"Good luck, kid. You're going to need it."

**Monette Zacharias-5**

"Better yet, good luck District 6," Jerome said with an roll of his brown eyes.

**District 7**

**Aaron Artaga-8**

"Finally, a decent score."

**Eva-Marie Green-10**

"Holy shit," Jerome shouted. "She pulled off a ten? That's insane."

**District 8**

**Ambrosi Finley-5**

"Pretty much what I had in mind."

**Cleo Ellis-8**

"Wow. That's actually pretty good."

**District 9**

**Aslovee Chesed-8**

"Alright. I can see that."

**Edan Jibril-4**

"Whoa. That's actually a little harsh."

**District 10**

**Sirch Lichen-6**

"Understandable."

**Talon Brock-6**

"Yeah. Expected from District Ten.

**District 11**

**Xavier Thomas-8**

"Better than I thought. Farm boy might have something for the others."

**Koring Evans-6**

"Meh. Thought she deserved a seven.

**District 12**

**Joshua Adams-6**

"Good. Now, fingers crossed. Please don't let this next one be what I think it will be."

**Venus Whitmore-10**

"Fuck!" Jerome shot to his feet and shouted. He grasp one of the empty coffee mugs and flung it at the hardwood floor, making a glass shard bounce back to his hand. He shouted as the shard cut into his skin, making a trail of blood run down his hand. He gripped his wrist, still shouting at the television.

The curved phone on the table in front of him rang.

Jerome picked it up. "Go fuck yourself," he yelled.

"Speaking of fucking people over," the nasally voice of his secretary said. "The President is on the line."

"Fine. Tell him to fuck himself."

"Unlike you, I value my life. Do you want to speak to him?"

"No, but put him on."

A quick ringtone blared into his ear. Then, the president's gravelly voice did the same, causing him to back away from the phone.

"How the fuck did she get a ten?"

Jerome took a deep sigh. "Well, Eva-Marie actually did a good job during her judges sess-."

"You know who I'm talking about. How did she get a ten?"

"It's not my fault. Execute the judges."

"Do you know what this means? There's parity in the Games now."

"Parody? What's funny about this?"

"Not parody. Parity with a 'T', you moron. Now, we have tens from that seven girl. Johanna Mason, much? Remember how she contributed last year? And to top it off, an archer from District Twelve gets a ten. Remind you of anyone?"

Jerome was speechless. He saw all the training sessions, and had to agree to an extent on most of them. Honestly, he could see the surprise tens. He just didn't want it to be true. The President was right. If the audience and tributes felt there was equality, not only would the attitude of the tributes change, but the Districts' as well. Their attitudes were volatile enough as is, and the Games wuld fuel that, as it did a few years ago.

"Don't you get it? They got those scores for a reason. They are targets now. The moment they step in the arena, they will die. Don't worry," he said with renewed confidence. "Once they get in the arena, they will all be equally helpless."

"Make sure it happens. I didn't replace Coriolanis for nothing."

The phone went dead. Jerome slammed it back down on the reciever.

"And now," Caesar said, causing Jerome to shoot his vision back to the television. "The odds so far for this years Games."

**District 1**

Male: Glint Mugg-10/2

Female: Satine La'more-13/1

**District 2**

Male: Cadmium Ruse-10/1

Female: Slate Bedford-11/1

**District 3**

Male: Jacob "Jay" O'Connor-26/1

Female: Arlyne Hunter-32/1

**District 4**

Male: Romeo Caliteo-7/2

Female: Paige Parker-9/1

**District 5**

Male: Timas Etienne-45/1

Female: Cyrene Polymer-45/1

**District 6**

Male: Casmond "Caz" Indianno-75/1

Female: Monette Zacharias-72/1

**District 7**

Male: Aaron Artaga-20/1

Female: Eva-Marie Green-16/1

**District 8**

Male: Ambrosi Finley-53/1

Female:Cleo Ellis-26/1

**District 9**

Male: Aslovee Chesed-35/1

Female: Edan Jibril-70/1

**District 10**

Male: Sirch Lichen-44/1

Female: Talon Brock-40/1

**District 11**

Male: Xavier Thomas-30/1

Female: Koring Evans-44/1

**District 12**

Male: Joshua Adams-50/1

Female: Venus Whitmore-17/1

Jerome sighed and sat back down. "It's not the end of the world. The interviews will change thngs. Just watch."

Suddenly, Jerome looked around his apartment. He sighed and put his head in his hands.

"Who am I talking to?"

* * *

**Question: Which score shocked you the most? Also, do you If you guessed any of the scores correctly, let me know, and I will add those to your points. **

**The interviews are going to be huge. I will do EVERY SINGLE ONE. It's going to be tough, but I will manage. If you haven't recieved my interview template, let me know so I can send it to you. I will even act out these interviews to make sure they at least cross two minutes. Two minutes is MY limit. I don't want to bore anybody. **

**Again, my poll had NOTHING to do with the result of the Games or these scores. Let that be known.**

**Thank you. See you soon.**


	29. Interviews Part 1: I may regret this

"Where's my seat?"

Jerome scanned the front rows of the large auditorium. The ornate theatre was covored in gold. Gold stairs, seats, poles, and aisles ran through the massive crowd filled with people dressed for a renaissance fair more than interviews. When Jerome first walked towards the theatre, he was quite apathetic about the whole situation. Interviews were only there to make people happy. It was pretty archaic, he thought. No need to wine and dine the whole Capitol when they could be a bag of bones tomorrow.

Jerome already had much more in store over the next few days. Despite his secretary's and the Board's eye rolls, Jerome actually did have an agenda. He wished that others would think the same; that he wasn't just a lazy bum that happened across the job of a lifetime. He felt really sorry for himself, to be honest. If only people understood what he had to go through.

Not to mention, the scores had shifted some things. He really wanted to raise the scores for Caz and Monette. They already had a tough enough time. No need to make them seem like small fry. He also wished that the Careers had done a little better. He hadn't expected the highest score to come from Romeo. Maybe Glint, but Romeo was far to distracted by that other girl. He thought an eight would be gracious. A ten? They might as well give him the victor's chair now.

Seven, Eleven, and Twelve were the toughest ones for him. Not because of the actual tributes. He couldn't care less about them. The problem was giving high scores to Districts that were the most problematic in the past two years. Hell, Jerome thought, they pretty much started the whole rebellion to begin with. To give them a share of power this early on was too much. He hoped his master plan would work. If it backfired, his death would be a foregone conclusion. What would be worse is that all of his work would be for nothing, and and all of Panem would pay for it.

"Excuse me, sir. You need to sit. The interviews are about to start," an usher in a lavender suit said.

"I have a reserved spot, and I can't find it." Jerome said.

"Over here," a nasally voice rose through the crowd.

When Jerome walked through the front row aisle, he came across his secretary, who sat with her legs crossed in a silver vest and black leather pants. "Welcome to the show."

Jerome pointed at her. "I don't want to hear a word from you during this. If you have anything to say, I'll be at the office tonight. There are some last-minute preparations I need to make."

"Fine by me."

Jerome sat down just as the Panem anthem blared out of the speakers around the auditorium. Caeser Flickerman appeared on stage. His blue hair was permed to slick back, revealing his flawless forehead. His deep tan shone in the lustrous lights on stage. Stretching his thin blue suit, he waved at the crowd and smiled.

"Welcome, Ladies and Gentleman, to this year's Interviews," Caesar shouted. The crowd stood up and clapped wildly, like their kids had just won a large prize. "This will be the best games yet, and it all starts with these twenty four amazing Tributes. I hate to keep you all waiting, so we hall get down to business."

The backdrop to the stage darkened from a bright yellow to a deep cerulean. A few fire-shooters shot from the front of the stage, causing Jerome to shout and lean back in his seat, afraid of getting burned.

"As usual, we will start out with District One. Your male Tribute for District One, Glint Mugg."

**Glint Mugg**

Glint walked out from backstage with a permanent smile. He wore a navy suit with a white shirt and blue waistcoat. When Caesar reached out to shake his hand, he grabbed it and pulled him into a hug. The crowd cheered as if they were at a concert as the two sat down in silver curved chairs.

"Impressed by the Capitol?" Caesar asked.

Glint nodded. "It's the dreamland I thought it would be. I see all of these buildings, and I can't wait till they all have my name on them after I win. Also, like to give a big shout out to my best friends at home. The fail of a ladies man, Mog, and his female friend, Feather. Love you, you bickering besties."

Caesar laughed along with the audience. "Did you want to give a shout out to your family?"

"Oh my gosh, I almost forgot," Glint said before turning toward the camera. "Orchid, don't let Mog keep you down. he's just a pandemic idiot. Orchid is Mog's little sister."

"So she's not family?"

"All of these people are family. I couldn't get by without them. I guess I'll thank my parents, too, if you want, Caesar." Glint said with an eyeroll, eliciting more laughter.

"Just making sure no one gets left out," Caesar said.

"I'll throw in my sister, too. Gossamer, keep drawing. You'll make it big soon."

"So she's a professional painter?"

"As professional as an eight year old can be."

The crowd laughed again as Caesar let out a loud snort. Glint soaked in the spotlight, grinning with the luster of the fame.

"So, we first saw you at the Chariots, and you seemed to be very close to your district partner. Would you say that is true?" Caesar asked.

"Me and Satine barely talk. We're partnering up, of course. Lately, though, she's spent time partnering up with someone else." The audience seemed to collectively gasp.

"We may hear about this later. A little romancing happening here?" Caesar asked with a wink.

"Nope, they just have sex."

The crowd continued to hum in surprise.

"Back to you, what did you normally do in District One?"

"Usually, I trained. Other than that, I like daydreaming."

"About your victory?"

"Other things. Mostly about other stuff."

"Do you want to tell us?"

"No."

Caesar paused for a second. He seemed a little thrown off, and stammered for just an instant.

"What will be the number one thing for you in the games? Besides winning."

"Make sure the cameras are on me as much as possible. Got to get my name out, Caesar."

The loud buzzer sounded around the theatre, and the stage transformed from blue to red.

"I had a joy talking to you. Mister Glint Mugg. Let's hear it for him."

The crowd stood up and thanked Glint. He gave them a quick bow and exited the stage. Caesar moved to his feet and clapped his hands together.

"Now, for the female Tribute. The wickedly talented...Satine La'more."

**Satine La'more**

Satine has a mischevious smirk as she sauntered onto the stage in her ivory high heels. With her tight white dress with a plugging neckline, and her hair straightened down her back, she made it to the center of the stage and twirled around to give the audience a view of her flawless figure. Caesar takes Satine's hand and lifts it in the air with his own. The crowd is ecstatic, standing as the clap harder. Caesar lets go, and Sating gives a quick wink towards the camera before falling to her chair.

"So, we just heard some interesting information from your District Partner. Is any of that true?"

"Yes, Caesar. I do have a guy in my eye. Although, if any of you Capitol guys are free after the Games, let me know." She gives another quick wink at the camera, provoking the audience into a few cat calls that pan through the auditorium.

"And who is this guy that has snatched up your beauty from the poor souls of Panem?"

"You see, Caesar. I love Shakespeare. That's right, boys. I'm smart, too." Satine laughs a little as a few people clap softly.

"Wonderful."

"Anyway, I was just working on my latest play, Hamlet. You know what that is, right? It's really old, so I don't blame you. I'd go into it, but it's pretty complicated. That's my real passion, to be honest. Outside of training, I want to be a real actress."

"And that you shall be. Doesn't she fit perfectly on the big screen, everybody?"

The crowd cheers.

"But who is it?"

"It's my very own Romeo, Caesar. Yes, I laughed to when I realized that was his real name. He's an amazing guy. He might even give the Capitol boys a run for their money."

"Now, is it true that both of your parents are former victors?"

"Well, they still are victors."

"How did they act when you volunteered?"

"I imagined they were happy that they got rid of me."

The crowd let out an "aw" as Satine's face drops.

"Don't be so negative, Satine."

"I was actually hoping I would see them around here. They moved here when I was little."

"My goodness. Those are the perks of winning, Satine. Now, you have something to look forward to."

"I can't wait to see my parents again, Caesar. I absolutely...can't wait." Satine said forcefully, as if she just ate a bitter tart.

"With such an excellent figure, what do you normally do to train?"

"Running, Caesar. I do that a lot on the stage. You wouldn't believe all the catwalks I have to scramble across. If I don't, they'll break and I'll fall."

"You absolutely love the theatre, don't you?"

Satine twirls her blonde hair with her finger. "It's my life Caesar. I think of just about everything in theatre terms. When I walked on the stage, I whispered to myself 'enter, stage right.'"

"Are you sure you weren't saying something else as Glint walked by?" Caesar said while a smirk formed on his face.

"Lets just say I'm not afraid to speak my mind."

"Since you love theatre, are you close to the people there, too?"

"Oh my gosh, love them. Graham is my best friend. He's a real hipster, but I love him. Who knows, Graham," she says while looking at the camera. "Maybe after the Games, we can have some fun when I get back."

As Caesar started to open his mouth, the buzzer rang again, causing Satine to buck up in surprise.

"Thank you very much, Satine. Good luck to you. And for Graham's sake, I hope you make it back."

She nodded and waved to the crowd one more time. She then sashayed off the stage, making sure her hips swayed to the electronic beat flying out of the speakers.

Caesar waited for the audience to calm down, folding his hands in his lap. "Now, my friends. Let me introduce our District Two male, Cadmium Ruse."

**Cadmium Ruse**

Cadmium flashed the gemstones bedazzled on the sides of his purple robe. He looked like a medieval king, looking down on his peasants. He shook hands with Caesar while his rubies and diamonds reflected the lights on stage over the crowd, causing a laser show arching through the

"How did training treat you?" Caesar asked.

" Excellent! I've spent everyday for years preparing for my moment! Just wait and see. I'll show everybody what I can do!"

Very spirited. I like that about your crop. What was life like at your home?

Cadmium paused. He squinted his eyes, then he looked out at the crowd. They were silent, peering at Cadmium like he was a hunk of meat. Cadmium took a deep breath and looked back at Caesar. "Not bad. We're kind of loaded. You see, they know how to use their wealth, at least. They fund all of these different places like museums and schools, and other things. They aren't like some mindless spenders like some of their friends. That doesn't mean they don't like to buy nice things once in a while. They buy me plenty of things."

"Like what?"

"It's not important. It's about what the stuff represents."

"Their support for you."

"Sure."

"Are there any people at home you'd like to talk about?"

"Well, not really, besides my parents. There are some people I talk to at training, but sadly, our fighting ways get the best of us."

"It's a rowdy place?"

"There were eight kids with broken bones two weeks before the reapings."

"There wasn't anybody you wanted to speak to?"

"No, Caesar. Nobody. You know how hard it is to go down to other's levels and try to sound like them and act like them? It's tiring."

A dropped pin could be heard in the theatre. The crowd was wrapped in a prison of silence, and a few whispers from backstage escaped to Cadmium. He raised an eyebrow at Caesar, who looked back out at the rows of chairs.

"Yikes."

The crowd's anxiety dissipated, and they let out awkward chuckles. Cadmium smiled, and wiped his brow. "Sorry, it's the nerves. Everybody has them."

"I know I do now." Caesar said as he let out a short laugh. "Anyway, How long have you trained?"

"Ages. Practically all of my life. I worked hard every day for this chance."

"Do you have any allies?"

"Well, I would love to be with my Career pals."

"Are they a good crop this year?"

"I think so."

"Are you not sure?"

"Not really.

"Why not? I'm sure you feel you have a better chance with them."

"If they could keep up. That's the problem with those guys. In fact, I don't know how long we will last."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Cadmium's face again fell. He looked towards the camera again, his breathing increasing while his chest heaved up and down in a rythymic pattern. "It means I need a massage tonight, because my nerves are showing again," he says. The crowd slowly trickles into laughter. Cadmium smiles back at them. "Let's just say I think we are expanding our horizons, and leave it at that."

"You mean you might add another person."

"Or subtract."

What will you do when you win?

"Probably give back to my parents. I'll show them who I am."

"Well I'm gonna go home and show my family exactly what they've been missing out on."

The eternal buzzer sounded again, and flames shot out from the front of the stage. Caesar shook Cadmium's hand. "Thank you, Cadmium you were wonderful. Cadmium Ruse, everybody."

Cadmium grasp Caesar's hand and lifted himself off the chair. He waved briskly, like he was swatting a fly, as he exited towards the back.

"Now, I present to you, the amazing people of Panem, Miss Slate Bedford."

**Slate Bedford**

Her outfit was short rust-red dress speckled with flecks of gold and silver threads, with a pair of gold heels, and striking gold eye-makeup, giving her a feline look, mimicking a lion hunting for prey. She takes to the stage and gives Caesar a quick wave and pats him on the shoulder. She whips around and plummets to her chair, regarding the large group of people eyeing her.

"How did training treat you?"

Slate nodded as the thoughts raced through her mind like the lights behind her. "It was as good as I thought. I decapitated some dummies, punctured some heads, and decided who my first kill is going to be."

The crowd murmured as Caesar gaped at her. "My goodness. What happened to spur this anger?"

Slate shrugged. "In training, there was a little fight on the first day. I think payback is necessary."

Caesar turned to the camera. "That goes to show everybody, woman hath no fury l-."

"Like a women scorned." Slate finished. Caesar's smile flashed down for a second, a shadow of some negativity zooming over his face. He regained his eternal confidence, and leaned towards Slate.

"What was life like at your home?" he asked.

"It was good. Me and my brother are really close. He wasn't voted by the academy to volunteer. Otherwise, he would have been sitting right here before me. Before training, though, I worked in the masonry. It was pretty cool, though I can't tell you a thing about how it works. It made me really strong, and my parents loved it."

"Just like any other parent, I bet."

Slate leaned back and looked around her. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asks.

"I mean that your parents should be happy you were sent here."

"So they should be happy that I'm in the Games, or that I may die?"

Caesar gasps. "My goodness, no. I meant that they should be proud of you."

Slate rubbed her face ad adjusted her hair. "Didn't mean to scare you. I might have overthought that."

"It's no big deal.

"When did you decide you were going to volunteer?"

"About two years ago, there was a restaurant called Flappy's. It was my favorite place. They had these amazing maple-sugar sausages, and their deviled eggs just melted in your mouth. It was like floating in a giant sea when you had their food. A bunch of muffins were in the front, and I liked those, too. I got some all the time with Mason, my brother. My favorites were banana-nut. We always went after training, so when we left, it was night time. The skyline of District Two isn't too tall, so the moon rose above the parking lot. There weren't any lights there, but the moon lit our path as we left. It was brilliant. Then, they closed down. DO you know why, Caesar?"

Ceaser shrugged.

"They were harboring revolutionists from District Thirteens and illegal weapons. That's when I knew I had to come."

"For the restaurant."

"Not for the restaurant, you idiot. For the principle. When you have people that are going to go against the Capito-. Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to burst out like that." Slate face-palmed.

"No, it's okay. Just relax, Slate. This is your moment."

"Bottom line: I'm going to win. Then, I'm going to have all the muffins I want."

The buzzer sounded again.

"Thank you, dear. Slate Bedford of District Two."

She walks off the stage, a small smirk and an eye roll accompanying her.

"Alright, folks. Let's move on to District Three. Give a warm welcome to Joshua O'Connor."

**Jay O'Conner**

Jay walked up in a marble suit lined with black on the edges. The gleaming costume was more akin to hi-tech body armor, and a helmet was cradled in Jay's hands. He sat down on the chair, denying Caesar's handshake. Caesar sits down and leans towards Jay, his hands clasped together.

"Interesting suit. What is that called?" Caesar asked.

"My stylist made me wear this. It was from some film from a long time ago. I think it had to do with space and some fuzzy creatures. No big deal."

"It looks magnificent."

"Who knows? Maybe everybody will wear this in the future."

Caesar cleared his throat and leaned forward. "How did training treat you, Jay?"

"Don't call me that." Jay says with a sneer.

"I'm sorry. Jay doesn't suit you, anyway."

"Training was fine, I just brushed up on my skills."

"And what skills would that be?"

"I think we will all find out in a day or so."

The crowd hummed in surprise from Jay's confidence.

"What was life like at your home?"

"Well, my parents really loved each other. So much so, that they decided to spare everyone the pain and divorce when I was little." He said. The audience let out some nervous chuckles, and Caesar looked at the camera in mock shock.

"Good gracious. Who do you live with?"

"My dad. I like both of my parents, but I have a weak spot for my grandparents. They make the best turkey. They treat me more like a great friend than a great grandson."

"Speaking of which, have you made any new friends here? Anybody that you will team up with during the Games?"

Jay drew in a deep breath. "A true friend has your best interests at heart and the pluck to tell you what you need to hear. Do you think any of these people are my friends, Caesar? I don't think so."

"Well, then. How do you feel about your district partner?"

"She's trusting and innocent so I don't think she'll last long."

"And what makes you think that?"

"You would think these people would try really hard to survive, but I think otherwise. Honestly, I think most of the people that volunteered this year are nihilists. Specifically, existential nihilists. That's what my grandparents taught me."

"Oh my. What would that entail?"

"Basically, those people don't care about their lives. They think life is pointless so they figure that if they're going to die, they'll do it in style."

"Thank you very much. The wonderful Jacob O'Connor."

Jacob leaves the stage. Polite clapping is strewn around by the audience.

"Up next, the excellent Arlyne Hunter."

**Arlyne Hunter**

Arlyne walked onto the stage in a yellow dress with a belt wrapped around her thin waist. She gave Caesar a quick hug, then melted into the plush chair.

"Welcome, Arlyne. Enjoy the crowd?" Caesar said, watching Arlyne's stare at the large crowd.

"Of course. I'm just not used to this."

The crowd clapped again, as if they were trying to comfort Arlyne.

"What is your main strategy during the Games?" Caesar asked after the noise died down.

"I've always felt that knowledge is power. I don't want to give away everything, though. That would get me killed."

"I love my home. Everyone is lovely and I really miss my mom and dad. I'm worried about my siblings, but I have faith that they will do fine without me. I like to think that I'm quite nice at home."

"In what way?"

"I don't want to brag, Caesar."

"Please do. If there is anytime to brag, this would be it."

"Well, I try to sneak out every morning around four to buy loaves of bread or little snacks and give it to kids who need it before sneaking back inside and pretending to sleep for a few minutes until one of my family members comes and gets me. I guess the secret is out. Sorry mom and dad.

"I'm sure they will forgive you. Speaking of forgiveness, how do you feel about Jay's comments a few minutes ago."

"Well, I still like him, I guess. I don't know him very well to make a valid response. We're pretty quiet when we see each other but he seems exceptionally talented in whatever he does."

"What will you do when you win?"

"I'll Try and help out my community. My family has enough support from my dad, so I want to make my district better. I believe the children are our future. If we teach them well, they'll have a better chance of winning in the future."

**Romeo Caliteo**

"Ever since you appeared in the chariot parade, you have quickly become a favorite with the girls in this Capitol. Am I right, ladies?"

A large group of girls stood up and hopped in the air, trying to steal Romeo's attention. He waved back at the crowd and blew a kiss. Many girls sighed in content,

"I've been told about that."

"What do you think about that?"

"I'm glad people can see me for who I am. In my District, I'm just some guy with good looks. Here, I feel like the Capitol people value everything from looks, smarts, and whether that person is a decent human being. I'm sorry to any other girls out there, but there's another girl here that I really care about."

"Who is that?"

Romeo smiled and looked towards the side of the stage. "The amazing girl from District One."

"You have a lucky catch in Satine."

Romeo gasped. "Please, Caesar. No girl should be considered a catch. A girl is much more than just a prize. She is above any man. She should be put on a pedestal and practically worshipped by us. If anything, I'm glad she caught me." Romeo said.

The audience cheered while a few girls swooned in the audience.

"That's so sweet. How did you two meet?"

"Remember how she said she loved Shakespeare? I do, too. We found out that we both loved Hamlet, and I was hooked ever since."

"What exactly do you like about her?"

Romeo took in a large breath. "A better question would be: what isn't amazing about her? She's funny. She's smart. She does these little things that are so cute. And to top it off, she looks like a goddess."

"You're head over heels for her, Romeo," Caesar shouted.

Romeo chuckled. "Maybe I am a little overboard, but I don't think too many people would disagree with me."

"There must have been some girl at home you cared about, though?"

Romeo shook his head and clicked his tongue. "Absolutely not. The problem in my District is that most of the girls don't want a real relationship. It's hard to find a girl that actually wants to be with you. A girl that actually likes you. A soul mate. At least for once in my life, even if it doesn't last, I found that girl."

"This is the great thing about these Games. It unites the world together. What do you plan on doing in the Games, Romeo?"

He paused. "I'll probably go with my fellow allies. I'll certainly spend as much time as I can around Satine. After that," Romeo stopped. He looked out at the audience, who sat rapt with attention.

"Romeo?"

"I guess we'll all be surprised."

"I know that the question is inevitable, but in light of recent events, what if it came down to you two?"

He paused again. "I'd do anything for her."

Romeo smiled just as the buzzer rang. Fire burst from the stage, and he stood up with a quick handshake from Caesar.

"Good luck to you, Romeo Caliteo. What a story this will be to follow. Let's bring in his District partner, Paige Parker."

**Paige Parker**

Paige struts on the stage while wafting her hands. Her long, dark blue dress mimicked the dark waves in the moonlight, battling her lengthy red hair for the spotlight. She hugged Caesar before sitting down in the curved seat.

"Paige, You have history with your Games. Your brother was in the Games a few years back."

"Yup. That was my big bro. We were very close. He gave me my nickname, 'Ariel'."

"Why is that?"

"In District Four, we have an old story about this mermaid. Her name was Ariel, and she had red hair, apparently. I'll tell you the story when I get back onto this stage."

The crowd gasped and gave out a few claps. Caesar guffawed. "A cliffhanger. We will be on pins and needles for the story. Back to your brother, he did very good in those Games.

"Yeah, but it was unfortunate. He lost out in the top eight."

"Were you upset?"

"I was sadder about who won those Games."

The audience laughed.

"Of course. It was Johanna Mason's year," Caesar said.

Paige rubbed her wrists. She started to breath a little heavier and shifted in her chair.

"But there's a bright side. Look how she ended up."

The audience laughed again.

"Well, you certainly want to make your brother proud, right?"

Paige bit her lip. "Exactly. He was always heavy-footed anyway. I told him to get faster, but he wouldn't listen to me."

"Well, Johanna was faster than any other tri-."

"Could we not...talk...about her, please?"

The crowd and Caesar stop talking.

"Is something the matter?"

"I don't want her ugly face to mentally scar me."

The audience laughed.

"Of course. So, are you a fan of Romeo's? Like the rest of the girls?"

"Well, I like him. Definitely. Me and the other's are going to be around him a lot."

"So he's like a ringleader?"

"Absolutely not. I am the dictator here."

"What should we expect from you in the Games?"

"If I see water, you better watch out. I'll be like a shark on morphine."

The buzzer groaned yet again. Paige stood up and gave a quick curtsy to the crowd.

"Paige Parker, thank you and good luck." Caesar shouts as Paige walked off the stage. "Wonderful. Up next, we have Miss Cyrene Polymer."

The crowd cheered, but were a little confused. It seemed that the girl-boy pattern changed right in the middle of the program. It must have been a lazy production manager, Jerome thought.

**Cyrene Polymer**

Cyrene walked on with a light blue dress, complete with a silver streak rolling down the sides. She gives Caesar a quick handshake before boucnig onto the chair.

"Cyrene," Caesar said as he sat back down. "Has the Capitol held up to your standard?"

"It actually has. It seems that this whole place is really rich and fabulous."

"Aren't we all, folks?"

"I noticed that this place is really rich. What I have a problem with is that, compared to other places, this place is heaven, and the other Districts are hell."

"Really. You don't like your District?"

"I noticed other places are like that, too. I talked to some people from the other Districts, and they agree. It seems that money is running dry for everybody."

"My goodness. We certainly didn't know about that. Why did you ask the others?"

"You see, Caesar, in my home, I like to come up with plans to make people's lives easier."

"An excellent agenda, I may add. Is it an invention of some sort?"

"Thank you. No, it's not. I do a lot of research on this, and i have decided on quite a few things. In fact, I presented a political change to my class."

"Really? You're a very high-thinker for being just thirteen. What did you have in mind?"

"It's called a Republic, but I would like to focus on something else: the economy. To make things better for all of Panem as a whole, I am asking President Lanarsus to enact the economic system called Capitalism. I learned about it at this really old library."

"So, what is it about?" Caesar asked.

"Capitalism is an economic system where industry, shops, employment opportunities, and commerce are controlled by private owners. Not the government. In a capitalist economy, the parties to a transaction typically determine the prices at which assets, goods, and services are exchanged. Now, there are different kinds of Capitalism."

"Is there a specific one you had in mind?"

"Glad you asked, Caesar. The type I was looking at was a free-market economy. Free-market economy is a capitalist economic system where all prices for goods and services are set by the owners of the stores or companies without the governments involvement. It supports highly competitive markets, so more people will get more money to spend on more things. Thus, more money is put into the economy.

"So what would the government here do?"

"They would just protect property rights. People have the right to use the goods however they want, the right to earn income from the good, the right to transfer the good to others, and the right to make sure those rights happen."

"My goodness. Very intricate plan. What if somebody got a hold of a weapon? Does that mean they can use it as they see fit?"

The crowd laughed with Caesar.

"That actually leads me to gun vio-."

The buzzer rang.

"Dear me, where does the time go? Thank you, Cyrene Polymer. Certainly a very high-minded young woman. I'm sure the male is just as smart. Ladies and Gentleman, Timas Etienne."

**Timas Etienne**

"Your District Partner is quite well-read, isn't she?"

The crowd laughs.

"Yeah. I think so. I like that about her. I read to pass time a lot, so I know how she feels."

"You are a pretty young, strapping man. How do you plan on dealing with a field of older kids?"

Silence

"I...I-I'm not really sure. I imagine i'll just do it the same way others do it."

"And what would that be?"

"Not die. They say that to not almost die is to never live."

"Words to live by. When it comes to your life in general, were you treated well at home? Because if you weren't, then you will now."

"What? No. I...I was fine at home. My mom is really good, and she does wat she can. We all do at home."

"It's okay, Timas. We believe you. Am I right, everybody?"

Everybody clapped.

"Do you have any friends here that you plan on helping in the Games?"

"W-well...I planned on being with the two from Six. That other big guy from Eleven is helping us, I think."

"And if you win the Games, how will you celebrate?"

"I'll probably...give some things to my mom so she can feel better. She has heart problems.

"Such a thoughtful person. Thank you. Timas Etienne, everyone."

Timas quickly walked off the stage, biting his fingernails to the dry nub.

"Now, let me introduce to the world District Six. Mister Casmond Indianno."

**Casmond "Caz" Indianno**

Caz slowly sneaked on the stage, eyeballing the massive crowd. He froze in mid-step and looked back at the stage behind him. Forcing a foot forward, he skidded across the sleek, marble floor. Keeping his head down, he spotted his reflection in the immaculate floor. He adjusted the grey tie on his white sweater vest, and took a limp hand to shake Caesar's firm grip.

Casmond. I can call you Caz, right?

Sure. Go ahead.

"What do you feel right now?"

Caz froze. The audience seemed uncomfortable when the next thirty seconds, seeming like an eternity, passed.

"Honestly?" Caz broke through the silence. "To be truthful, I'm so nervous right now. About all of this.

"No reason to be nervous. We are all friends here."

"Well, not that. I'm talking about what's going to happen in the next few days."

Caesar's face fell. "I understand. It is quite unfortunate that only one of you can leave the arena. Just know that you are not alone in this, even if you think so."

Caz's eyes started to water. "No, I'm not. I have an amazing best friend in my District Partner. Monette is the only reason I can still wake up in the morning."

"That must feel good, then? To have somebody that needs you just as much as you need them."

"I think so. It still makes me feel...less than good. I'm getting calmer, but I think that I'll freeze up when that noise sounds tomorrow."

"You won't, Caz. You can do anything. You're young, talented, and you already have quite a following from your kiss at the chariot. Am I right, folks?"

The audience clapped, trying to comfort the distraught Tribute.

"Thanks, Caesar. You actually make me feel different."

"All in a day's work, young man. Let's give it up one more time for Casmond Indianno."

Caz wiped a tear away as he bumped into Caesar, wrapping him into the tightest hug he could muster. Caesar hugged back, laughing as he patted Caz on the head.

"How about him. Before we go on break, we have another Tribute for you. We have a translator next to her, my beautiful model, Charnice. If you must know, she is mute, so instead of clapping, wave your hands everybody." Caeser said. The crowd laughed. "I'm just kidding. Give it up for Monette Zacharias."

**Monette Zacharias**

"How did training treat you?" Caesar asked.

Monette started to move her hands in rhythmic signals and formations. The model, kneeling next to her, spoke as she watched her. "Training was average."

"What was life like at home for you?"

She moved her hand up and down like a roller coaster. "I don't think I have to translate that." Charnice said.

Caesar clapped and let out a guffaw, while the audience laughed like hyenas. "Is there any special people at home you would like to talk about? Aside from Caz?"

Monette shakes her head.

"What is your main strategy during the Games?"

She started to move her hands. "I plan on trying t play things smart. I looked at other smaller girls, and they all used one thing to win. Their brains. I will outwit the competition."

The audience applauded with Caesar.

"Have you ever done anything before that could help you win the Games?"

She pointed at herself, put a thumbs up, and drew a triangle in the air and pretend throwing it. "She liked playing with a boomerang." Charnice said.

"Now, we heard about Caz's feeling on you a few minutes ago. Are those feelings mutual?"

She pointed at herself and then covered her face. "I'm ashamed," she said. Then she puts her hand up, points to her back, and draws a big heart. "But he is so sweet."

"Anything else to say about that?"

Monette shook her hand. The horn sounded, and fire exploded in the front of the stage into towers of heat.

"Thank you. Monette Zacharias from District Six. We will be right back after this half-time break."

The crowd cheered. Jerome took another swig of the chardonnay his secretary brought him.

* * *

**Formatting this whole thing was insane. Writing the dialogue was fine, but it was the story elements that were tough. If this was a screenplay, it would be so much easier. **

**Please tell me your reactions to these. What are your impressions of all of them? Did your opinion change about any of the characters? If so, or if not, why and how? **

**Be as constructive content wise as possible. It's one of the few ways I can get better.**

**Thank you. See you later!**


	30. Interviews Part 2: Games here already?

The lights erupted in the theatre. Jerome broke out of his tired and tipsy state. He bucked up in his chair as Caesar turned around in his chair.

"Welcome back everybody. I guess there is no need for any introduction. Except for our next tribute. Straight from District Seven, we have the excellent Aaron Artaga."

**Aaron Artaga**

Aaron walked on in a deep blue tuxedo with a matching bow tie clipped around the neck. His black penny-loafers clicked on the slick ground. He reached Caesar and shook his hand quickly, as if it was on fire. He turned back to the chair. Making sure he was in the right spot, he sat down.

"Aaron, how are you feeling?"

Aaron took a short sigh. "I'm doing better than I thought," he said.

Caesar nodded. He folded his hands in his lap. "I'm glad to hear that. How are you mentally preparing yourself for the Games?"

"I'm not. I was hoping I'd fall asleep and wake up after the Games are over."

Caesar laughed. "You think you'll be able to just sleep walk through the Games?" He said between guffaws.

"I was pretty serious when I said that, Caesar." Aaron cracked a smile.

"Now, I noticed that District Seven's scores were unusually high this year. I heard that a training center was actually built a few months ago. How much did that help?"

"I don't think I would have gotten anywhere if it wasn't for Eva-Marie, my District partner."

"Oh! So you do know Eva-Marie? I was wondering if it was a coincidence that you two volunteered together."

"No coincidence. Me and Eva have been...best...friends for quite a while."

"You know best friends usually turn into a lot more."

Aaron's smile transformed into a frown. "Are you trying to give me relationship advice, Caesar?"

"I'm sure you can figure it out yourself." Caesar said. The audience laughed.

"That's wonderful, Caesar," Aaron said in a thick voice. "I think I'll ask her out, even. We can go out, walk hand-in-hand to the Cornucopia, then we can have a romantic feast of ber-." Aaron stopped himself, sputtering while he rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry, I was just thinking out loud."

"It's alright, son. We all have much on our plate lately. Do you think you and Eva-Marie can get far?"

"Eva can definitely win it all. No doubt about it. She practically is from District One or Two."

"Now that would be something we've never seen. A partnership with District Seven would be a great change of pace. Do you think you could trust anybody else outside of your District?"

"Absolutely. Anybody would want to be with Eva-Marie and hopefully me."

"Oh, stop. You're going to make her bush when she comes out."

"And for the other question, The best way to find out if someone is trustworthy is to trust them. The only difference is that there are no second chances here. The Careers need us as much as we need them, and they know it."

A loud foghorn sounded, and blue lights enveloped the stage.

"Dear me, we are out of time. We will see you soon, Aaron Artaga. Give him one more hand."

Aaron smiled along with the cheering crowd. He darted off the stage, bouncing with the beat of the elevator music filling the short interval between interviews.

**Eva-Marie Green**

Eva-Marie strutted onto the stage in a short, black peplum dress that has lace over the top part of the fabric. Her hair was in a bun with a bow made on the top. Her champagne-colored flats shone in the light as she gave Caesar a curt handshake. She rested on the chair. The lights brightened to a gold that illuminated her tan face.

"We heard quite a few good words about you from Aaron, Eva-Marie. Are you used to him buttering you up like that?"

"Not really. That's kind of the first time he's done that. I might have to kiss him when I get back."

"So, you have gotten the highest scores for District Seven since Johanna Mason a few years back. Do you think you did your District justice?"

That's a silly question, Caesar. I'm honored to be in her territory. I look up to her. When I volunteered for the Games, I promised that I would make my heroine proud."

"Johanna is your heroine?"

"You bet. She's everything I want to be. Strong, fierce, brave, and not afraid to speak her mind. In fact, I got a tattoo on my wrist for her. Not of her, mind you."

She pulled her sleeve back. A black tattoo with the word "free" was emblazoned on her pale wrist.

"A very bold statement. Freedom is the most prized possession through the history of man."

"Yup," she said while pulling her arm back. "I want to be just like her. Minus the insanity part. I hope not to go there."

"With such intimidating expectations, are you going to be a lone wolf in these Games?"

"Well, I'm not sure yet. I plan on joining the Careers, but I don't know if I need them or not. I know I'm sticking with Aaron, but I don't know who else, yet. I talked with that girl from Twelve. She wants to join the Careers, too. Honestly, they probably need us more than we need them."

"If you need them? You can do this without them?"

"My strategy in the arena is to kill the competition. Simple as that." Eva-Marie said with a flick of her wrist.

"You plan on killing all twenty-three people?" Caesar said in awe.

"Maybe with some help. If I can pull together a small group, we can divide the kills up."

"Well, now. How would that work?"

Eva-Marie paused. She looked out at the crowd and thought about the position she was in. She could make or break her opening to the Games right here. She looked back at Caesar and licked her lips. "Do you know what a diner's dilemma is, Caesar?"

Caesar raised a plucked eyebrow. "Explain, please?"

"It's game theory. Imagine that your going to eat with several people at a diner, and before ordering, you all agree to split the check equally. So, each person decides whether to order the expensive or inexpensive dish. Now, the expensive dish is better than the cheaper, but is it enough to get that, when you have to share the bill with others? Each person at the table reasons that the expense adds to their bill by ordering the more expensive item is very small, and the more expensive food is worth the money. However, they all end up paying for the cost of the more expensive meal, which by assumption, is worse for everyone than having ordered and paid for the cheaper meal."

"And how does that pertain to the Games?"

Eva-Marie sighed. "If everybody tries to be a prima donna like I expect them to be in the Games, the only people that are going to come out on top is people like Johanna. People like me."

As Caesar opened his mouth, the buzzer sounded.

"Thank you very much. Miss Eva-Marie Green, ladies and gentleman."

**Ambrosi Finley**

The boy with bright strawberry-blond hair curling around ears bounced on the stage.. His deep red eyes crinkle in delight as he shakes hands with Caesar. i suit is a white tuxedo with rhinestone emblazoned on the collar and sides. Rubies and emeralds replace each other in the line of jewels. The crowd was in awe at the skinny boy's clothes.

"Who made that amazing suit? The design is unlike anything I have seen in the Capitol."

"Can you all keep a secret?"

"I think we can."

"I made it myself."

"You must be joking?"

"As serious as a twister in April."

"What have you thought of the other outfits from the Tributes tonight."

"Some of them were well-fitting. Satine's had a nice form that complemented her hair well. I liked Romeo's simple yet classic look that went straight down the line between tactful and busy. My favorite so far has to be Monette and her humble gold dress. Not only does it match her District, but I think it can lend a lot of it's personality yo her. If it was on anybody else, it wouldn't have worked."

"How do you look at the fashion her in the Capitol."

"It's a dream come true. I've always wished I could emulate the same fashion that appears here. It is stunning."

"Will you be a fashionista when you win."

"I already am. I want to come back to the Capitol and change fashion forever. I'll come in here and take charge of the scene like a wildfire."

"How long have you known you would do that?"

"My whole life. You don't grow up in Eight and see all of those sewing machines without doing anything."

"How do you think this will help you?"

Ambrosi's face fell. "I think a few traps will be useful. Food and water can be caught in fabric, so I shouldn't have to worry about surviving against the elements. Trust me, dear Caesar. I will come out with a fall line within two weeks before I get back."

The horn erupted and made Ambrosi's skin crawl.

"I can't wait for it. Ambrosi Finley, our next fashion icon."

Ambrosi blew a quick kiss at the camera and skidded off the black stage.

"Alright everybody. We can rest easy, because Cleo Ellis is here." Caesar said.

**Cleo Ellis**

Cleo makes it across the stage in an emerald dress that matches her green eyes. Her red hair flowed around her face and framed it like a mask. She has a small smile when she made it to Caesar and sat down on the chair.

"Cleo, I must imagine that good score from yesterday has you fired up."

"Like a forest fire in July, Caesar," She said while the audience laughed.

"Now, have you prepared yourself for the Games in the past?"

"I have experiences that have helped. I helped out in the textiles. You wouldn't believe the amount of physical work needed for that place. A bodybuilder would break a sweat in there."

"Unbelievable."

"Of course, being in the Games isn't my number one goal. It will, however, help me get my name out for the future."

"And what do you plan on doing with that power?"

"You might not think it, but I love writing. It feels amazing to take those small tragedies of everyday life and spin it into a world where it actually makes sense. I think writers are some of the most important people in the world. They find ways to take the abstract issues and emotions of humanity and channel it into concrete characters and situations. Now, tell me. Does that sound like anybody here, Caesar?"

"Absolutely not. Rarely have I heard such poetic insight."

"It's not poetic. It's really just everyday speech mixed with static situations. Then again, you Capitol people speak a little better than the folks in my District," Cleo says, evoking the audience to laugh in appreciation.

"I'll remember that next time I come across a writer. In fact, I just met this person a few weeks ago who said they were writing a novel. Any advice?"

"No, because he's not writing a novel. Every time you go to a cocktail party of some sort, some guy always has to come up and start talking about writing a new novel. 'I just started my novel a few days ago.' That's bullshit. Either they haven't started, or they're going to give up after page five. Don't let them trick you, Caesar."

"I didn't know you frequented cocktail parties." Caesar said as the audience laughed again.

"It's common sense."

"Are you a fan of the novels that have come out recently?"

"I guess I feel like writers are restricted now. It feels like they have to hide from the sunlight and sneak through the alleyways, trying to sneak up on people instead of meeting them face-to-face. That's why I like the older ones. When I say old, I mean old. There's this guy named Ernest Hemingway. Have you heard of him?"

Caesar shook his head.

"He makes these really down-to-earth and efficient and somewhat depressing stories. He always said, 'All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.' Apparently, that's hard for people. Writers can squeeze the truth and paint it onto paper like some pulpy juice. Speaking of drinking, he was a real drunk. I'm sure you've come across those, Caesar."

"All the time, Cleo."

"Before he drank his day away, he woke up and wrote about two hundred words. He would stop and continue on with his day. What he did was stopped mid sentence so he wouldn't get writer's block. That's the trick, Caesar. You just get a pencil and bleed out on the paper. You have to use a pencil. That's what Hemingway said."

"What a marvelous mind we have her folks," Caesar said. The people cheered in agreement. Cleo smiled and nodded at the camera.

"What about these Games, Cleo? What do you plan on bringing to the table."

"I'm hoping that my passion for wanting to write in the Capitol will give me enough energy to get by. A writer does anything to expose the grit of reality to those too clean to see it. Returning here would be a perfect place to do that."

"Are you nervous about your competition? Some seem very intimidating and I wonder if you will get worried. Will you be intimidated?"

Cleo scanned the audience in front of her. All of the made up and painted faces, unknown to any dirt or toil of reality. It stunned her to no end, making her take a few deep breaths from frustration. She whipped her head back to Caesar and broke. "If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to break them, so of course it kills them. The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. Will I really win if I come from the Games, Caesar. The only way I will say I've won is if I can leave my page in this book of history."

Caesar nodded. "And you definitely will," he said when he reached over and kissed Cleo's large hands.

She let out a light chuckle, and the horn sounded.

"Amazing insight we will take to our graves. Thank you, Cleo Ellis. Our next great novelist."

The crowd stood on their leathered feet. Cleo bowed her head and turned away from the stage.

**Aslovee Chesed**

**"**Walking into the arena tomorrow, how do you plan on getting to the cornucopia?"

Aslovee stares at Caesar, a bored look engraved on his face. "I'll run in there, grab a few knives, and vamoose away."

"It seems like knives are the weapon of choice at this year's games. What will you do to stand out with Panem? Inject a little originality?"

"Originality?"

"It's something the entire nation craves."

Aslovee looks around at the crowd. "I must say that originality is the last thing on my mind. There are twenty-four people walking into that arena. Not everybody can be special."

"We all know that. I mean what makes you think you are special."

Aslovee stares at Caesar, silence surrounding them like a constricting snake. "I might not be all that special, Caesar. You don't have to be to win. There are plenty of Victors around nobody cares about."

Caesar shifts his legs in the chair. "I understand that. For now, you want to make an impression. Why should you win the Games is what I am getting at."

Aslovee nodded and contemplated the question. "I know my limits. I'm not perfect, but neither are these clay dolls from the other districts."

The audience laughed. Caesar grinned.

Speaking of which, what do you think your District is thinking right now?"

"That's a lot of minds to read, Caesar. A little much even for me."

The audience laughed again.

"When it comes to your District, does it compare to the others from what you've heard about them?"

"It's comfortable," Aslovee said while resting his head in one hand.

"Is there anybody there you want to give a shout out to?"

"No."

"There has to be somebody at home you care about."

Not really."

Caesar chuckled, stretching his suit collar. "What about your parents? No need to be mystreious with us."

"I'm not an open book like these other morons."

The crowd gasped as Caesar formed an "O" shape with his mouth.

"You don't think their frankness was endearing to the audience watching?" Caesar asked.

"What kind of question is that?"

"I'm just wondering what your relationship with the other Tributes are like."

"There is none. And I plan on keeping it that way. You see, Caesar, In Panem they don't throw throw garbage away; they make it into TV shows."

The horn sounded right as Caesar's face turned into a look of horror. He sighed quickly, letting relief enter his blood stream. Aslovee didn't bat a black eye as he stood up and walked away. The audience, slightly shell-shocked, stayed silent. Awkward applause rippled through them, and Caesar regained his gravitas.

"Isn't he a joy?" Caesar asked. The audience shrugged off the tense air and choked out a few chuckles. "Without further ado, let's welcome Edan Jibril.

**Edan Jibril**

Edan's Layered, shoulder-length chocolate brown hair straightened down towards her short silver sundress. She gave a quick hug to Caesar, who guffawed in delight. She sat down, allowing Caesar to straighten his suit out.

"Edan, how are you doing?"

Edan looked straight at the camera. She seemed to be in a state of shock. She started to breath heavier, like she had run a mile. Her blank stare shifted to Caesar, who smiled at her.

"Quite a lovely crowd, aren't they?" Caesar asked.

The audience ate it up. They cheered and gave a short flurry of claps.

Edan stammered. "I...I'm doing fine. Nothing much has happened."

"Nothing much has happened? My dear, you are in the Hunger Games. If there is something more exciting, then let me know."

Edan's eyes widened as she waved her hands in front of her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Everybody loves the Games."

"No need to butter us up, Edan. Some people do that perfectly fine by themselves."

Edan nodded. "I understand. The Capitol is kind of a scary place."

"Scary? I guess some people here look scary. Rest assured, we are very welcoming people."

Edan stammered. "I guess I just feel...My...uh, training went well. I was able to learn how to do many things. Aslovee is actually nice. He...he...I'm sorry. I can't do this."

Edan lifted herself out of the chair. She darted off of the stage, leaving Caesar in the spotlights by himself. The fire shooter shot out, this time welcomed by a wave of silence.

"District Nine is neurotic this year, aren't they?" Caesar said. "On with the show. We have District Ten in our sights. For us, we have Sirch Lichen.

**Sirch Lichen**

Sirch walked out in a nice tuxedo with a yellow handkerchief draped over his breast pocket. He waved to the camera as he walked. Shaking hands with Caesar, he met the chair.

"I see you have a little necklace on you there. Is that your token for the Games?"

Sirch looked down at the olive serpent hanging from the gold-chain necklace on his neck. It is rustic, and the tarnished metal has little gleam from the lights. "Yes it is. Wanna know how I got it?"

Caesar crossed his legs. "Do tell."

"In town, there is this little place. It's wedged between a bank and the deli. This specific places sells different types of crackers. Crackers and milk. Nothing else. The owner was this really rude guy with this thick accent. I don't know what it's called. He always sounded angry, like he was yelling at people. One day, I walk in and there he is in his usual spot eating grapes out of his wooden bowl. I wanted to get some crackers for my friends because they wanted to feed some birds. I walk in, and he starts yelling about being out of the organic kind. The kind birds like. I knew for a fact that he kept them in the back for himself, so I made a bet. My friend Marcus had a debt with with the store, and there was a sword on a rack above the door in the shop. I wagered that I could put a grape on his head and cut it without hurting him. He laughed at me like I was insane."

"Then what?"

"He reached for a grape and had it at his mouth. Just as he held it between his hands and lips, slice." Sirch said, slashing his hands downward." Marcus's debt was gone, and the guy even threw in this necklace. It was some sort of lucky thing involving this black magic from a long time ago. It doesn't matter. It looks awesome, and I love it. How much do you think it would fetch at auction, Caesar?"

Caesar leaned forward and tilted his head. "I would say enough to get some gum."

"Could you get some gum for me after this, Caesar?"

The crowd laughed as Caesar nodded his head. "I'm sure we can arrange something."

"If there are any sponsors out there, get me some gum. I'll need it while I use my sword."

"So you wield the sword well?"

"Like the back of my hand.

"Who will meet your powerful blade i the arena tomorrow?"

"I hate to seem like I'm jumping on the bandwagon, but my goal is to crush the Careers. Might as well get the hard weeds out before cutting the rest of the grass, am I right Caesar?"

"A beautiful metaphor if I ever heard one."

"I try to be poetic. Maybe I'll collaborate with Eight while I'm in the arena. We can publish it and make tons of money. I'll even give you an autographed copy, Caesar."

Caesar grinned with an appreciative nod. "Make sure it's first print, too..

The buzzer sounded, and fire shot out again.

"Thank you. Sirch Lichen, our swordsman for this years Games."

Sirch gave the audience a quick bow. He ran off the stage like a bear was chasing him.

"Up next, we have the beautiful female tribute. Talon Brock," Caesar said when he gestured to the stage entrance.

**Talon Brock**

Talon walked on the set with a green sundress. She had a daisy planted in her along with a pearl necklace hung around her. She offers Caesar a welcoming hug and sat down.

"To start it with, Taylor, I must say that we were all interested in your views of the Capitol."

Taylor nodded. "I believe so. The city is a really big difference than the ranch at home. I can't say which is better. There are great things abut both of them."

"What was great in District Ten?"

"Many things. For starters, me and my family are very close. We have very hard times in the District. The cattle are dying off more and more everyday. There aren't many resources left. It's become a really bad place."

Caesar gasped. "That sound terrible. Maybe the people here in the Capitol can help out. What do you think?"

Talon nodded. "I think that's good. My goal in these Games are to raise awareness for what is going on, and I think people need to open their eyes to the rest of the world. Keep an open mind. That's what I teach my brother all of the time."

"You're a teacher?"

Talon laughed. "I teach my brother some things. My parents gave me a lot of books before I started my life as a ranch hand. When I'm done in the mornings from rounding up the cows, I go inside and teach my brother things."

"Like what?"

"When I left, we were working on times tables. You know about those, right?"

Caesar grinned. "I have a little room in my dense brain, Talon. Just enough."

The crowd let out a few giggles.

"It's such a joy to pass on something to other kids," Talon said. "I did the old switcheroo on him before I left. You know how two plus two makes four? I asked him what two times two was. He hemmed and hawed, then said four which is right. I asked him what three times three was, and he got it wrong. It was a pretty funny sight. You would have had to be there."

Knowledge is key in any setting."

"That's the absolute truth, Caesar."

"How will you use that knowledge during the Games?

I already know about most of the poisonous plants and wildlife, so I don't think I'll have a problem , I have to hunt down many a cow during my life. I like to think that I'm a good runner."

"So, in a sense, you have been in training your whole life?"

"I don't want to brag."

"No time to be humble, Talon. Be who you want to be. What will you do when you win?"

Probably help my family and district. I'll bring help to them. They need it more than any District."

The buzzer sounded.

"Thank you very much ma'am. Talon Brock."

The crowd cheered as Talon exited the stage.

Caesar clapped his hands together. "What a good story Let's hope we go two for two with Koring Evans. Come on out, honey."

**Koring Evans**

Koring scowled while she bounded towards the front stage. She gave Caesar a quick handshake. She rolled her eyes and fell onto the chair. Caesar grimaces before he lowered himself to the cushioned seat.

"What were your first impressions when you saw the competition this year?"

"All of them seem pretty fucking stupid to me." Koring said.

"My goodness. So you think you can win these Games?"

"Hell no. I'll probably get whipped out the first day. Why should I care, though? It's not like I'll do anything if I won."

"Don't be so negative, Koring. You will be a fine tribute."

"Don't brown nose me, Caesar. I know very well how this works. I'm not going to use smoke and mirrors. I am my own woman, and I must say...that has gotten me into trouble before."

"Really? In what way?"

"I'm bisexual. You probably heard about that from southern belle in Eight, right? Guess what? The Peacekeepers in Eleven are... Get ready for this shocker. Homophobic! What are the odds."

"I'm sure it was a misunderstanding. We here at the Capitol are very welcoming."

"Too bad I don't live here. Me and my girlfriend were scissoring in an empty field, and one of them just happened t come across us. Before I knew it, I had her guts splattered on my from the gunshot. Isn't that great? Millenniums of evolution, and this is where we get."

"Well, I can imagine a Peacekeeper would be pretty shocked from such bombastic behavior in public."

"But if it was straight sex, it would be fine, right?"

"What I mean is that it might have been jarring that the Peacekeeper sa-."

"So your defending him now?"

"I don't know both sides of the story. I can't pass judgement."

"Why are you getting so defensive, Caesar?"

"I want to know about you as a person. Is there anybody at home you will think about when trying to win the Games?"

Koring sat in silence. Then, she erupted. "You know what? Fuck off, Caesar. This whole thing is pointless."

With that, Koring got out of her chair and ran off the stage. All of Panem was stuck in a frozen state of shock. Caesar looked over at the camera, wondering if this was a cruel joke. Jerome adjusted his glasses. He was a breath away from passing out on the floor. The drink in his hand didn't help his dire hopelessness.

With amazing rebounding skills, Caesar tugged the audience back into the comfort zone. "For all we know, she's probably running towards the arena as we speak trying to get a head start."

The audience let out a cloud of relief with a few chuckles floating around the thick space. Jerome melted in his seat. Another crises almost diverted. He may not be executed until after the Games. Oh joy, Jerome thought.

"Since Koring has graciously concluded her interview, we will move on to her hopefully less...spunky District partner. Without further ado, put your hands together for Xavier Thomas.

**Xavier Thomas**

Xavier walked on the stage. He wore a crisp black tuxedo with a simple white bow tie. He clutched a straw hat in his hands which he moved to one hand. His calloused hand gripped Caesar's baby smooth ones. He nodded at Caesar and took his seat.

"Did you get any culture shock when you arrived in the Capitol?"

"I reckon I got the shock of my life. It's like I'm on another planet."

"What has impressed you most from your time here?"

"I've never seen so many people in one place," he said.

"And aren't they just magnificent?" Caesar pointed at the sea of people. They cheered at the volume of a hundred car horns. Then he cleared his throat. "Back to you, take us through a day in the life of a young man from District Eleven."

"I'll be happy to oblige," Xavier said. He sat and contemplated, letting the frosty air run over his dark skin like ants crawling over damp grass blades.

"Will you take us through a day?" Caesar asked. The crowd laughed.

"I'm sorry. I was thinking. The first thing I do is wake up at around dawn. Then, I sweat in the fields and try not to get whipped by the plantation owners while I heave boughs of hay. After ten hours of work, I head home and pick up some potatoes along the way. My mother makes the best potatoes. She fries them in this oil called canola oil. It's a delicacy, but we scrap every penny. I usually fall asleep around ten or eleven. I'm completely bushed at the end of the day."

"It sounds like a really tough life."

"It's what I'm used to. It's simple, and I like that. This world isn't my flavor of gravy. It is much better than it sounds. The birds chirping and the sounds of children playing are what makes the hardship worth it. We don't have much, but we have each other. What's mine is yours, and the other way around."

"Now for your strategy in the Games, did training help you decide what you were going to do?"

"I've been training for twelve years for the games. I consider loading trucks of corn and chopping dow corn stalks every day will benefit me. I made some excellent partnerships with the young ones from District Six and the male from District Five. They are young, but under the circumstances they have proven they are more than capable of being successful with each other, including me."

"How do you plan on working with them?"

Xavier stifles out a laugh. "I will make sure no harm falls upon Caz, Monette or Timas," He turned towards the camera and pointed at it. "If there is, then I will see to it that those that cause pain will have it returned to them. i will not fall into sadness, but anger. I'll turn my loss into something my family can be proud of."

"Even if t is one of the Tributes from a powerhouse District."

"They would be the first."

"Now, when I get to talk to you after the Games, what will you do with your new Victor title."

Xavier nodded. "I will hand my mother my money, and donate the rest of my wages towards families of fallen tributes around the country. I don't want to get bigger than my britches, so I will also continue to work in my normal field. I have to remind myself that, before being a title, I am still me. People I know will still be them. Most importantly, I will be fit to continue my labor. I will prove myself to be a useful citizen of Panem."

**Venus Whitmore**

Venus went out onto the stage. she wore a coal black dress that clung to her like a second skin. Glitter twinkled in the theatre lights like dense stars. Her blue eyes were surrounded by barely visible smoke-grey eye shadow. She made it to Caesar and gave him a tight handshake. She moved around and plopped herself in the silver seat.

"First off, amazing dress Venus.

"Thank you. People worked hard on it. Plan B was a bunny suit, so I should be happy."

"I'm sure the boys here wouldn't mind that, wouldn't they?" Caesar asked with a raised eyebrow. A few catcalls and whistles came from the audience, making Venus's cheeks grow the smallest tinge of red along with her sheepish smile. "Well, Venus. For the third year in a row, a female from District Twelve has a score at ten or higher. Did you ever expect that, and do you feel that you deserved it?"

"No, I didn't think the judges would be so nice, but absolutely! I knew I could do it, and now I can keep my head up. I just need to let people know that I'm not afraid."

"How is life at home for you, Venus?"

"I actually really like it. I have two twin sisters, and their the most amazing twins I could have. I love everything about my family. I love it when we go out to this bakery every week, and we make candles sometimes. Most importantly, we actually found this really cool spring by the old Victor's village. We were worried about getting caught, but it didn't say to keep out, so we went in."

"Sounds like you have a lot of fun over there."

"It's all because of my family."

"Your parents must be thrilled for you."

Venus's face fell slightly. "Yeah, I'm sure they are."

Caesar frowned "Did I touch a nerve? I'm sorry if I did."

"Oh no. Don't feel bad, Caesar. It's okay. It's just that...my dad isn't really around anymore, so it is just the four of us. But, hey. They say a nuclear family is four, right?"

"What's a nuclear family?"

"Basically a normal family."

"Have you been impressed with the Capitol so far?"

"It's funny. I'm actually jealous of all of you. You have so many things, and I've already learned so much. I never knew what a defibrillator or a shiskabob or a wardrobe was until I came here. Turns out, a wardrobe is the same thing as drawers in District Twelve, so maybe we aren't all that different. We're all just feeling our way in the world, right? I think me and the Capitol can get along fine. After all, I am a humanist. Do you know what that is, Caesar?"

"Is it about being a human?"

"Correcto. I think that human beings can be great. Even if there are terrible things, I know there is good out there and here, as well. I call it Venusism."

The audience clapped like a group of buzzing fireflies at night. The applause soon died died out and Caesar cleared his throat. "When you get back, you should enlist us as your followers," Caesar said before chuckling. "What is going to be your main strategy in the Games?"

"It's really hard for me, since I'm not used to all of this, but I'm going to be brave. I'm not going to back down to anybody, Caesar. Did I forgot to mention that I am a die-hard patriot for my District? I will do anything to make them proud. In fact, I wrote a song about it. Do you want me to sing it?"

"Maybe to close out the night. Are you going to be with Josh through all of this, or are you going to take this one for yourself?"

"I'm going to be with the Careers, actually. It's really complicated. I'm planning on joining them, but I've also talked with other people. My mentor thought I was weird doing that, but I go for broke," Venus winked at the camera and gave it a thumbs up. "Either that, or I'm making a team of my own. We will just have to see what happens."

"How about that song?"

"Sixteen years, and my life is still. Trying to get up that great big hill of hope..."

The buzzer sounded.

"I'm so sorry. We are out of time. The wonderful Venus Whitmore, everybody."

Venus grinned as she took a quick bow. She waved and walked off stage.

"Her singing was awful, between you and me," Caesar said to the camera. The Capitol crowd nodded in approval. "Anyway, we have the best for last. Joshua Adams.

**Joshua Adams**

Josh walked on the stage with a grey pinstripe suit, complete with a grey coonskin cap covering his black hair. He greeted Caesar with a formal handshake. After that, he sat on the spacious seat.

"You have a very spirited District partner in Venus. Do you two plan on sticking close during the Games?"

Josh shook his head. "Doubt it. She'll do her thing, and I'll do mine."

"And what would 'your thing' be?"

"Stay out of sight. Can't hit what you can't see. Then, when the time is right, I'll wipe out the Careers one by one."

"Wipe them out? You're assuming they will all be still alive?"

"And hopefully me as well."

"Your District partner expressed interest in the Careers, though."

"Looks like she won't be around very long."

"What was life like at your home?"

"Good most of the time. But sometimes my Grandparents would look at me with this sideways look of disgust because I was the result of rape."

Caesar choked on his spit and gasped for air. The audience exploded into a chorus of uncomfortable murmurs and whisperings.

Caesar cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. Do you not want to talk about it?"

"No, it's okay. I have no shame in admitting my mom was raped. If anything, it's the country that looks bad in this."

Caesar frowned. "How so?"

"My dad is a Peacekeeper. Don't know who he is, though."

The crowd started to grow into an uproar as Caesar stood up. Even Jerome stood up in the front row. His mouth agape in shock. The Capitol crowd was easily excited, and this would cause a riot if things turned worse. He prayed that they would settle down before these interviews had to be shut off. He was lucky enough that they weren't shut off after Cyrene's political stunt.

"Please, everybody. Let him explain," Caesar pleaded. He sat back down into his chair when the people calmed down. Jerome fell back into his chair, blowing a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Caesar," Josh said. "You see, this is actually good for my cause in the Games. I have even more motivation to go home. When I become a victor, I'm going to find out who that Peacekeeper was. Then, I'm going to watch the life leave his eyes as he falls down into hell where he belongs."

The crowd tripped into a hole of silence. Jerome shook his head. With such remarks this early after the rebellion, another one was sure to start up just from this. And from Josh, no less. A boy he didn't even think about as a threat was now kindling the smoldering coals to the rebellion fire. Fortunately, it seemed that Caesar knew what territory he was in and decided to maneuver through it like a poised sculptor.

"So, when it comes to the Games, who seems like the biggest threat to you?"

Josh adjusted his red hair and sighed. "I guess everybody, since they're all trying to kill me."

A few members of the audience chuckled nervously.

"Specifically, who comes to mind?"

"I would say the Careers. To be honest, I'm not worried about them very much. It's the wild cards that will be tough. Seven seems really poised to win. Both of them. I wouldn't count out that guy from Nine, either. He seems like a loose cannon. I don't think he will last in the Games with that kind of recklessness anyway. Then, of course," Josh breathed. "There is my District partner. Anybody that isn't a Career is scariest. Careers are just meat cleavers with the ability to speak. Nothing more, nothing less."

Jerome gripped his brown hair and squeezed them in his hands. This was so wrong on so many levels. What happened to Districts being in their rightful places?

"That's our show tonight, Ladies and Gentleman. The Games start tomorrow. Be sure to tune in, and get ready for the next few days of thrills and excitement. Don't miss it. Good night."

Jerome stood up before clutching his head. It was pounding like the amplifiers above the pool of people. He had a job to do before the night was over, and it needed to be done now.

His plans rely on the outcome of these Games. They need to fit in perfectly, or all of his work will fall into a cloud of dust.

* * *

**There are only so many ways I could describe sitting on a chair before I skip that part all together. Again, if I had just skipped to the dialogue, I'm sure nobody would hate me.**

**Two questions: what interview was the best? Also, what two interviews changed your opinion on the characters, and why? Even if it was just a little bit.**

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**Should I do one more chapter covering the night before? I almost have the bloodbath chapter done, so I need to know fast. Get all the people you can to review this. Go on the tribute list, find authors that haven't review, and tell them to do so. Get your parens to read along with you. Read this to your five year old cousin. Do what you can to make this a great experience, and help me supply an even better one.**

**Thank you. See you soon. **


	31. You know what time it is!

**Satine La'more**

It's a real shame I couldn't have one more night of hide-and-seek with Romeo. He's actually decent in bed. I think it is from the passion he feels. It's a real shame that he is this much invested in a relationship. He has pulled out all stops. Breakfast in bed, white roses (don't know where he got those), his soft kisses on my lips, the way he strokes my hair. He is selling this as much as he can.

It really isn't for sponsors. He is just that obsessed with me. At times, I feel a little guilty that he is just a ruse for me. I shove those thoughts to the side. There is no room for regret in these Games. If I have seduce Romeo to get my way, I'll do it.

As we meet one more time in the elevator, he leans forward and kisses me again. I push his head closer towards me, and we are locked in yet another battle. I stop breathing when he lifts me up and presses me onto the elevator wall. I wrap my legs around him, and continue our make-out session. I have to say that he is one of the best kissers I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Before the elevator to my floor opens, he lets me down to my feet. We smile at each other, and I give him my trademark smirk. I take my hand and stroke his curly blonde hair.

"Think you can last a night without me?" I say with a growl.

"Nope. It's gonna be the longest night of my life." He says.

"I'll miss you, too. The moment we get into that arena, find me and we can finish what we started here." I say.

The door opens. I trace my finger on his chest as I walk out. Make sure you swing your hips. Walk slowly. Give him one last look. Wink and turn away.

He is putty in my hands. Gotcha, Romeo.

**Arlyne Hunter**

My alarm clock goes off at eight in the morning. The heavy sun beams on my closed eyes, and I slide out of the bed.

When I get to the main area of the suite, I see a few Peacekeepers standing with Jay. He has a blank stare and watches me as I walk like a sloth towards my mentor.

"Is it time to go already?" I say with an unsure voice.

He nods. "It's time to go Arlyne."

"Come on. It will be fine." Jay says.

I am so scared right now. I start to hyperventilate, but I funnel my breath through my nose forcing my breathing to slow down. My eyes start to tear up. The saline pricks at them, and I rub them before walking to the Peacekeepers. I nod at them, and one of them nudges me to the door.

I go down the unlit entrance. Taking one last turn, I notice something I haven't seen before. That painting from District Three is hanging right by the door. It is not comforting, it holds a type of personal irony. Beauty in an ugly place. The moment I slow down to catch a final glimpse of the dark brushstrokes, the Peacekeeper shoves me forward like a prisoner going to an execution room.

The oak door opens.

The moment I step out, I feel a needle jab itself into my arm.

The next image in my sight is black.

**Joshua "Josh Adams**

When I wake up, I am in a room with metal walls, sitting on a plastic chair. The only other thing in the blank, freezing room is a tube in the center with a platform hissing otu hydraulic steam. It looks like a time machine. I am wearing a skin-tight black jumpsuit with coal-grey streaks down the sides. It has a stretchy fabric which seems to capture cold and heat depending on temperature, reminiscent of a space blanket. My token, a sun pin, is in my inside pocket. At least they dressed me appropriately.

A siren wallops my head. The room transforms into red from a oscillating light on the ceiling.

Time to go.

I step on the platform. My body is shaking a little from the pressure. This is the moment of my life. My entire existence comes down to what happens in a few seconds.

The shaft elevates me up, and my head pokes above the ground.

Once I reach full standing position on the platform, I gasp my hardest.

The entire arena seemed to be a mirror. The floor gleamed with heat burning down on the surface. A few trees with reflective surfaces replacing bark dotted the area away from the mirror meadow. The cornucopia itself was a giant mirror, contorting the landscape around it with the curves of the glass.

The most striking sight was above. It seems that the entire sky was pitch black, covering the arena like a suffocating blanket. However, the sun is directly above the cornucopia. The large sphere battled with the darkness around it, leaving a halo of light to create a boundary and shield the orb from the night. It was a breathtaking sight to see such vibrant in the middle of a dark sky.

With the exception of the sky above, the entire ground level are mirrors acting like solar panels. The air is extremely thin. I growl for air, trying to catch it like a firefly in my hand on a summers night. It's like the atmosphere around us was depressurized from ground level. We had to be on ground level, right? There was no way we couldn't. How could the sun be hovering in such darkness without illuminating it at least a little? Why am I so frightened to step of this platform? I feel like stepping of and blowing up just to end the suspense.

I see some of the tributes look at each other. We're already feeling each other out like dogs at a kennel deciding who to play with and who to chew on. I see my District partner beside me looking at the girl from a District Seven. Venus points at her, then herself. Seven nods and points behind her. Guess they're not bothering with the Cornucopia. Caz from Six is hyperventilating along with Timas from Five. His heart problems he mentioned at the interviews must be killing him. What if he passed out on the platform? His first kill would be his only death.

The countdown starts at fifty. It has fallen to ten. My heart is beating like the cannons that are going to erupt in the next few seconds. I need to get something from the cornucopia, even if it is just a small piece of rope.

Five seconds.

I shouldn't have said those things.

Actually, I'm glad I am. It could help with sponsors. If it starts another rebellion, I may not be around long enough to care. Either I die now, later, or after I win for causing such mayhem.

Death is my only way out. I'm not even upset.

Boom.

The world collapses into a morbid foot race heading towards the baking cornucopia. All the careers are bounding towards it. I leap off the platform and skid on the mirror surface. The soles if my shoes are warming to an intense heat. Not enough to yelp in pain, but it's almost akin to stepping on hot rocks barefooted. It is bearable, however./div bounce towards the epicenter of destruction. A blonde haired female career trips up the boy from District Eight. He falls to the ground and screams in pain. When he stands up, I see a red burn rash clinging to his pale skin. Third degree burns, most likely. He grasps his hand and starts limping away.

He stumbles right into the path of that black haired guy from District Nine. He gives the little boy a haphazard sneer. He locks his arm back and flings his fist forward. The punch hits the boy right under his chin and makes his head jar backwards. Too far backwards. He collapses to the ground, face first onto the hot surface.

Boom.

One down, twenty two to go.

Then, disaster.

When I take another step and push off it to go faster, I feel my insides drop down like stones. My head lightens, and I start to hurl uncontrollably forward.

I'm off the ground.

The gravity has been shut off.

I keep flinging my arm, trying to grasp for anything in this empty space. There is nothing by me.

The others are faring no better. The girl from District One crashes into her other lovebird from four like two skipping stones. The boy from Three kicks out his legs and zooms right into the head of the District ten girl. Her head whips to the side, while her body tumbles over like a corkscrew. Another cannon fires.

I can't stop spinning forward. I'm on an endless somersault, and dark spots are edging my vision. The world whirls in front of me, and when I make one last revolution, my head is cocked downward.

My head crashes right into the Cornucopia. I feel the scorching heat burn the back of my neck. It bends forward, and the chin crashes onto my chest.

The last thing I hear is the snap of my neck.

**Glint Mugg**

As I hurtle towards the cornucopia, I see another body floating in front of me. I can't touch any surface with bare skin. I've already seen the affects. With all my weight, I turn myself a little faster, and my back impacts his body.

Perfect landing.

He pads my jarring hit with the cornucopia with a burning hiss squeaking from his face which hit the central object. I bounce off him and float towards the ground. My feet touch the sleek floor and I try to regain my balance on my tiptoes. I feel like a ballerina as I try and skate my way through the air using the ground as a launch pad, making sure not to go too fast.

I bounce over the surface and come across the open part of the target. Using my momentum, I stomp my right foot and push forward. I sail towards my destination: the giant crates and racks of weapons tied down to the ground. The weapons float in holders. Without them, a small push would send them flying.

Suddenly, the District Three kid crashes onto my side, knocking me onto the inner curved wall. I use my hand to push off it.

Bad idea.

I shout as the metal singes my open hand. Using my momentum, I rocket towards Three, who is now close to reaching a bow and arrow set. I thrust my arms forwards. He turns his head towards me. I crash my hands on both sides of his throat. We both fly towards the other side of the wall. He struggles to get out of my grasp. He lifts up a leg and kicks me into stomach. It doesn't hurt, but it does put us in another spin. We tumble end over end, until we finally get to the barrier.

My goodness, I'm batting two for two today.

My judgement prevails as I lift his head up and smash the side of his face onto the mirror. I know I'm going to bounce off it, and he will do so, too. So, I extend my arm to keep him on the wall and we slide up the curve. He screams louder as his face is dragged over the wall. We make it to the top, and I let my grip loose and release him as I flip over above the goods below.

When his face turns towards me, the right side is completely red. Most of the skin has been fried off, and his eye is half melted like an egg.

These surfaces would make excellent stovetops.

He is clutching his face, still screaming out. Just then, I see other people coming right towards us at full speed. This is my chance to get the kill./div

We start to float down towards the bottom. I lower my arm as far as it can go. It reaches for the racks of axes. Taking one from the rack holder, I lean it back.

Instead if using the cutting side of the end, I decided for the hard side. It will guarantee an impact, and it either kill him or knock him out. He is dead either way.

I heave it over the top. It meets his burnt face. He flips over end over end like a wheel, and another cannon sounds.

I'm on a roll now.

**Eva-Marie Green**

The moment she nodded at me, I knew what I was going to do.

Three things ran through my kind after that. Get knives for me. Make sure Venus gets her bow and arrows, and try to keep Aaron as close to me as possible. The fourth task was to kill as many Careers as I could. Tasks three and four were thrown out the window the moment we entered zero-gravity.

I reach over to Slate, hoping we could help straighten each other out. As I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her right side up, she turned around and jabbed at me on the cheek. I don't know whether she knew it was me or not, but I couldn't take that either way. I take one hand and grasp her neck. Then, I throw my right fist forward, hitting her mouth straight on. I grimace as her teeth imprint into my hard knuckles.

I'm assuming my attempt at the Careers has failed.

Actually, maybe not.

As we careen towards the inside of the Cornucopia, I block off Slate's weak jabs. From the force of my punch, I not only knocked a few teeth out, but I clear some space between the two of us. She can only give me a furious stare as we fly into the fray at the weapon racks.

I crash into a tangled duo. Cadmium and Romeo are...fighting each other? Hold up. I didn't know Cadmium was going against the Careers. I know he was asked by Venus to let her in the Careers, but I didn't think he would leave the Careers. Does that mean he's joining with us? I mean her? I don't know right now.

I find myself wedged between the two. Romeo gasps and stares right at me. In his surprise, Cadmium puts both hands on my back and pushes me downwards to the weapons.

"Get the knives," He shouts.

What do you know? I guess I technically am with the Careers. Or Career. Whichever one works.

My feet hit the ground. I push my hands on the inside top of the racks, forcing my body to stay in a stationary position on front of it.

In front of me are the pouch of throwing knives. I reach in and grab the belt. I press a button on one of the knives holders, keeping it in place like a holster, and it releases the knife into my grasp. Before I can put the belt on, I turn around to see if anyone is coming at me.

Sorry girl from 11. Your next.

As she free falls towards me from the cornucopia opening, I fling a knife at her. It lodges into her throat, and she flips over. While it slows her momentum, she is still coming at me in full force.

I dip down. She skids right over me.

I curse to myself when I realize the knives were still on the rack.

When her limp body crashes into the rack, the knives jut out in different directions. Then, a few axes become dislodged and spin like hula hoops in mid-air.

The knives fly over the entire place. A spinning knife whistles as it cuts through the air into a boy from District Six's stomach. He screams as the blade buries itself inside him. I wish it had hit his throat.

Fortunately for Timas Etienne, that very thing happened.

The blade spins and lodges into his throat. Blood spurts out in bubbles around him, like it was boiling in a pot. He goes limp in mid-air, his eyes open in an endless stare.

Boom.

Too bad Six is still suffering.

Even one of the careers, Satine, has one cut into her arm as she dives for a backpack.

Finally, the knives slow down from the impacts on the walls and bodies. They softly float in midair like the non-existent clouds floating on Earth./div

Wait a minute. Clouds on Earth? Why did I think that?

Unless we aren't on Earth.

No. We need to be on Earth. The Games have never been that elaborate. How would they get this stuff up to space anyway?

No more time to think, Eva. Act now.

I turn to Aaron who has slowed down to just above and to the right of me. From the left corner of my eye, I see a small figure orbiting the cornucopia. It's the girl from Nine. She is far out from the center. However, I see the big guy from Eleven crash into her, and she moves like a raging comet towards us.

Specifically towards Venus. Who is in inertia just feet from the wall.

I know Aaron can't push off in time to reach her.

I push with my hands off the weapons rack towards the bow and arrow set. When my finger loops the edge of the bow, I take an arrow from the arrow holder and hold it onto the bow.

"Aaron." He turns around. I push my feet of the mirror floor softly and fling the bow and arrow towards him. He grasp it, and does exactly what I was planning.

Whoever is out there, thank you for Aaron and his mind-reading skills.

He whips around to a stagnant Venus who just noticed the girl from nine coming at her.

"Venus," He shouts.

She whips her head around just as Aaron thrusts the bow and arrow at her, pushing him slowly backwards. She reaches out and stops the set in its endless tracks. She rears back an arrow and fires it down and towards my right.

With a space of a foot on both sides, she uses the momentum of the fired arrow and goes between the wall and the screaming girl from Nine. Nine crashed into the wall with her face. She screams at her burnt face, and I see the black haired guy from Nine come in and snap her neck. Insanity. Her District partner took her out. I expect it was out of pity more than anything.

What's important is that Cadmium has thrusted himself out of the fray towards the glass forest. Venus is floating away from the bloodbath, not a person by her.

Now we need to pull ourselves out of this mess.

**Slate Bedford**

Ranch girl from Ten is in my sights.

The mace over the spinning throwing knives is tumbling towards me. I reach out and catch the slowly oscillating object. When I grasp it, I extend my arm towards ranch girl. She waves her hands in front of her like she is swatting away bees. I swing back and let the mace fly. Like a bat, it spins towards her at full force. The mace hits her right on the head, and she screams. Apparently, one of the metal thorns lodged into her eyes. Now she is skinning like a Ferris wheel with a mace dragging in her eye.

I'm not as cruel as some other idiots. I'll take this as a kill and leave it at that. Just as I reach for her neck, I feel the entire scene around me crash to the ground.

Gravity is activated. The weapons clatter on the reflective surface.

I fall on top if Ranch girl, who is still writhing in pain like a squashed caterpillar. I squeeze my hands around her thin neck. Her breath shortness as I restrict her windpipe. Her remaining blue eye widens and her irises blow up like a photograph.

Before I know it, her limbs fall to the surface like an anvil. The metal cooks her skin as she chokes one more time. A little blood pops out from her mouth, sinking into the skin on her face.

Another cannon rings in my ear.

I shoot to my feet. I'm finally standing on hard ground. My fellow careers stand in the Cornucopia. Satine has a few cuts on her arm. Glint and Romeo have a few burns on their arms and legs. Paige seemed untouched, hanging back from the bloodbath. The remaining bodies are grilling on the floor. The smell of dead skin clings to the smoke rising from their corpses. Crying from the small from District Six is starting to give me a headache. I groan and walk over. He is turned on his side away from me. I lift my leg up and stomp hard on his head.

Another cannon fires.

After that, I walk over to Romeo. He stares at me. Then, I punch him in his stomach. He keels over and clutches it with a groan.

"Idiot. I told everybody to save the weaklings for later. That way, it's easier for us to make it to the end. But no. You have to be greedy and kill the little bitches."

"We couldn't stop ourselves. They were coming at us like bullets." Glint said.

"Why are you all so stupid. Kill the big ones, then save the weaklings for last. Our whole strategy for the Games is almost ruined."

"Slate, relax. We got this. We just need to hit down those losers and take them out. It's not the end of the world baby." Paige said with a giggle.

I roll my eyes. I push Romeo aside and rear up to Paige. "Don't you understand. The people in these Games aren't afraid of us anymore. We have had the luxury of being powerhouses. Now, we have nothing."

Glint walks over and stands between us, separating my from the blonde girl by his arm length.

"Slate, get it together. We have the most weapons. We still have the advantage. So what if they aren't afraid? That makes them even more reckless."

"Either way, we need to find a place that isn't going to destroy our skin. There has to be some cool spot." Satine says.

"Doubt it. Even the trees are made out of these things." Romeo says as he leans in close to Satine.

"Let's get all we can from here and move forward. We have to hit something at some point." I say.

"Okay, your highness." Paige says while waving her hands.

My first kill may be in a few seconds. Paige will be the death of us. Easily the weakest link. Romeo and Satine's relationship will bog us down, and Glint is an idiot that won't contribute at all.

We need to find a safe spot. We can't stick around the Cornucopia until we get fried. On top of that, we need to kill of the big threats. We may salvage this situation yet.

What is there to salvage, though. We don't even know where we are. We were in zero-gravity, the air is almost unbearably thin, and the sky is unlike anything I have ever seen.

I have a theory, but I need further confirmation.

Maybe the technology of the Capitol has gotten more intricate. They can change the laws of physics at will.

It's not like they could shoot all of us in-.

Oh shit. Are we in...

* * *

**Congratulations. We have arrived at the Games. Get all the people you can to review and comment. It will make this a much better Games for everybody.**

**I'm surprised at how critically divided the interviews were for everybody. Half loved all of it, and half hated most of it. Regardless of writing, I think the interviews come down to personal preference. You either love it or don't.**

**Eulogy Time (plays sad music)**

**24. Ambrosi Finley (District 8)**

I liked the kid enough. He had that artistic side that worked well for his more flamboyant personality. In my inexperienced state, I toned him down more than I should have, and I apologize to TheGrammarHawk for that. Decent enough guy that didn't have a chance.

**23. Joshua Adams (District 12)**

I thought he was fine as a tribute. he had that blunt and uncaring attitude that suited him well. I figured the world had enough Joshua's, though. I decided to snuff him.

**22. Jacob O'Connor (District 3)**

He was a man that was kind of rough around the edges. I really didn't know what direction to go with him. This was one of those tributes were I felt liek i just had to make things up with him to try to be interesting. He was a bloodbath from the start.

**21. Koring Evans (District 11)**

This character was just crazy to write. She was so hateful of everything around her. I'm surprised she didn't just jump off the platform and blow up. There was only so much anger I could take, so I made her die.

**20. Timas Etienne (District 5)**

Timas had heart and breathing problems. Rule number one: Cardio. He was that kind of bookworm and isolated guy you'd expect. There was no hope for him.

**19. Edan Jibril (District 9)**

Edan was far to sweet with no real abilities that could help her survive. She was the result of not having a place in these Games. She was gone from the start.

**18. Talon Brock (District 10)**

I didn't feel there was anything particularly special about Talon. She was a ranch hand that only had one or two apt skills for the Games. Even then, she would be crushed by the Careers. Nothing doing for her.

**17. Casmond Indianno (District 6)**

His relationship with Monette was sweet, and he had a nice grip with the knife. However, there are way too many knife throwers in these Games. Second of all, Caz was way too timid and scared to make it anywhere. I'm not going to lie. There was a slight satisfaction of him rolling around in mid-air with a knife in his stomach.

**Rest In Peace!**

**Kill Count**

Aslovee Chesed (District 9)-2

Who knew Nine had it in them? And he killed his own District partner?

Slate Bedford (District 2)-2

If there was a Career stereotype, she must be it.

Glint Mugg (District 1)-1

He almost seems to nice to kill. Oh well.

Eva-Marie Green (District 7)-1

Even Johanna had to start somewhere.

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xSakura-Kissesx-35 points

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KhaalidaNyx-80 points

HappilyEnding-35 points

**Congratulations to the winners of the Bloodbath Trifecta. Sponsoring is now open! PM me what you want, and you will see it in the next chapter.**

**Question: Pick a Tribute still alive in these Games, and tell me what I could do to make them more likable. I probably won't use the exact situation or idea, but it will help me catalyze people you can root for.**

**Also, if you pick the next tribute to die, you get more points. Guess the next three to die in a row, and you get a mountain of points. You can only submit for one or the other, though. If you pick A to die, then happen to pick B and C next, you only get points for individual deaths. You have to pick A,B,C and group them together. You must pick to bet for an individual, or go for the trifecta. You can't do both at the same time.**

**Thank you. See you soon!**


	32. Day 1: Feeling Out The Arena

**Cleo Ellis**

Running on the glass makes me worry about falling through. I don't think there is such a thing. It seems like pretty solid ground. Where would I fall anyway?

I keep jogging through the mirror forest. The clacking of my feet makes me wince. Even when I tried to go on my tip-toes, I still sounded like an elephant raging through a stampede. With the adrenaline of the bloodbath, I haven't taken into account the air around here. It is freezing. My breath keeps coming out in warm spurts and runs over my cheeks. What's worse is that it is very thin. I feel like I am out-of-shape. About four minuets of running away from the Cornucopia, and I am winded.

My ears twitch when a panting sound comes from in front of me. I stop my running and scan the area around me. The reflective trees surround me. All I see is my own self looking around. In between the trees, I finally spot somebody. A girl with golden blonde hair in two braids over her shoulders is keeled over and resting on her haunches. Her breath explodes out of her mouth as she pants. She is a pale girl, barely around my height.

Arlyne. The girl I decided to stay with. Ever since she helped patch up my hand, I knew she would be the right girl. She has the medical know-how, and I can pull off the stunt work.

I don't want to be loud and give away our position. The Careers and that other group might be just around the corner. I tap my hand on the tree I am hiding behind. It is stone cold. At least it won't scald me. I lean on the cold glass. I slip off my black running shoes from my feet. My foot hovers above the ground as I balance myself on the tree. I don't want to hit the ground without my shoe. I clutch the shoe, and I flick it forward.

The shoe clanks on the ground and slides towards Arlyne.

She turns around and lets out a sigh. I wave her towards me. Picking up my shoe, she strides to the tree I am behind.

"I was wondering if you changed your mind." She says.

I grab my shoe and dig my feet into it. "Not yet, dear. We have a few people between that time."

She gasps. I grip her shoulders and spin her around. Leaning forward, my lips close in towards her mouth.

"Listen. I know they're others around here. What did you get from the Bloodbath." I whisper.

She gulps. "I thought you were getting the stuff."

I smack her on the back of the head. "Idiot. You didn't get a single thing?"

"It's not my fault. A whole bunch of people didn't get anything."

"And the people that did are the worst ones to have them."

She starts to sniffle. "I'm sorry. I'll do better."

"Make sure you do. I didn't get anything either."

"So we need to keep going forward?"

I let go of her shoulders and start walking forward. Silence follows me after my clicking shoes. Spinning around, I wave at her.

"Hello. You coming."

Her blue-green eyes widened as she scurried towards me.

For now, I may seem like I am babysitting. She will prove her worth soon. I'll go in and do the dirty work, and she will patch me up whenever I'm hurt.

If not, then I'll end this before it gives me any trouble.

**Cadmium Ruse**

My running is horrible. Even on the track, my one mile times were always in the bottom quarter of my District. I'm certainly not out of shape, but running away from things is not my forte.

I honestly didn't think I would be running from anything so early in these Games. Me and the others have been fighting from the very beginning. Excuse me for thinking that diversity would actually help. When I saw Romeo by the knives, he hesitated. I guess he wondered if I was going to join them. My position with them was still confusing. I had to make my decision then and there.

My fist on his smooth face made it for me.

I escaped with a first aid kit. I know, right. A Career only gets out with a first aid kit. Actually, it's a backpack, but the only thing inside is a first-aid kit.

I'm hunched over on the floor and looking through it. There are some nice additions. The classic painkillers, cold antiseptic spray, stinging rubbing alcohol, shining scissors, and the best friend to any cut, bandages. A few other things are in here, but I hear a tapping behind me.

If it is anybody with a big weapon, I'm dead unless I get right up to them. I could probably take them down with my hands.

I spin around and stand up.

It is a girl with light brown hair and blue eyes. She is a few inches shorter than me, and her snug jumpsuit brings out her pale skin.

It's the very girl that has ruined my chances with the careers.

Venus stops about ten feet by me. She looks at me and pints her bow at me. I can't help but let out a laugh.

"Are you threatening me with an empty bow?" I ask. Venus keeps her soft look at me. She keeps her bow with no arrows right at me.

"Are you threatening me with scissors?" Venus asks.

I look down at my hand. I took the pair of scissors with me when I stood up.

I look so stupid right now.

I feel my rage boiling inside me. I need to keep cool on the outside. If I play the role of the confident Career, my chances of sticking around are better. "How about you come here and make it a fair fight?"

Venus lowered her bow. "You know I don't want to do that. What about what we talked about?"

"What about what we talked about?"

"You don't want to be by yourself, Cadmium. If you let go of this, you won't have anybody left. Do you really want to be all alone? I know I wouldn't," she says.

I pause. She has a good point. A Career by himself is a huge target. Then again, all the Careers seem to be a target this year.

While I keep staring at her, a figure with dark brown hair and green eyes leaps out from behind one of the silver trees. Leaning back, she flings a knife forward. It whistles past Venus's head, and it lands right at my feet.

"Don't touch her, Career. We talked this out. And you're in no position to say no."

Eva-Marie walks over to Venus, who gives me a soft smile. "Come on, Cadmium. We can help each other."

Now, a guy around my height with blonde hair runs from behind the tree towards Eva-Marie's side. Oh yeah. She did say another guy was going to tag along. Aaron.

Eva-Marie rolls her eyes. "You know, I have one knife left. And you're a wide open target."

Venus puts her hand on Eva-Marie's shoulder. "Thanks, but I think we can solve this without violence. For now at least."

Aaron nods and looks at me. "Well? Can we?"

If I'm insane for denouncing the Careers, the only way I would be crazier is if I ran away. I still need to think for just a second. If I run, then I will be by myself. Then again, Eva-Marie would just pluck me on the back and be done with me.

I drop my scissors. I kick the first-aid kit towards the trio. As it skids forward, Venus stops it with her foot.

"You did the right thing, Cad," she says while grinning at me. "I can call you that, right?"

Is she serious? "Hell, no."

"Well, we're calling you that anyway," Eva-Marie said with a smirk.

They walk closer to me, surrounding me in a small half-circle.

"Alright, Cad," Eva-Marie states. "Ground rules. You touch anybody here, and your dead. You make us believe for a second that you will turn on us, and your dead. Finally, since you are our only Career, you have to do all of the heavy lifting. That includes holding that backpack."

Do I really have to subject myself to this? I can take any of these people on in hand-to-hand combat.

Although that knife in her hand is convincing.

Venus gasps. "I have an idea. How about we come up with a name?"

Aaron looks at Venus. "Sorry, but we aren't a band. I don't think we need a name."

Venus adjusts her hair. "I just think that we need something to define us. You know, for the people at home."

Even if this is completely stupid, I have to kind of agree. We need all the support we can get. Hopefully, a ragtag group can give the crowd something to cheer for.

"How about the anti-Careers?" Venus asks.

Eva-Marie sighs. "Whatever. Fine. Well, Cad. Because you are the Career part in the name, you can take point." She says while she points forward towards me.

"What?" I ask. I have never heard of that term before. What the hell does "take point" mean?

"Idiot. That means you get to lead the way."

"Let's not get people mad, Eva. We need to keep calm," Venus says.

"I agree. Tone it down, Eva. You're going to make someone spot us."

This will be the aggravating experience of my life. I'm seriously debating just killing them at night. Although, I could ride their coattails to victory, so they may have some worth. They seem somewhat competent anyway.

Speaking of which, when is nighttime? The sky is already dark.

**Cyrene Polymer**

Yup. All alone.

I thought I could start something up with some of the other tributes to no avail. I don't know what I am doing running through the arena. I am a progressive thinker. A person that should be changing lives one District at a time. Instead, I'm running for my own life.

I did come up with an idea for the Games in the future as I walk through the crystal forest. I know that giving up the Games is unrealistic for the Capitol. It may not ever happen in my lifetime (no pun intended). However, there may be a better alternative.

A fake Games.

I think it makes a little sense. We can have the Games happen, but the deaths will be faked. All the "dead" tributes can be hidden away in some other location. With technology, the Capitol can make fake deaths look realistic. It shouldn't be too hard. Nobody would know the difference.

Forget it. That idea is stupid.

I didn't come away with anything at the Cornucopia. Fortunately for me, I was moving away from the cornucopia and headed straight for the forest. When the gravity went off, I floated through the forest, giving me a considerable lead on the others.

There has to be something out there that can help me. The Capitol wouldn't let us just die out without resources.

Maybe they have given us resources.

The glass on the ground is tough, but it has to lead somewhere. Also, I knocked on the cold glass on the trees It was a hollow noise. The trees are very hollow, so breaking through it should not be too much of an issue. I just need a shard. No need to break the whole tree.

My arms are useless in breaking things, so I use my legs. I stand squarely in front of it like a boxer preparing for a jab. I swing my leg up and bang it on the tree. It cracks, and a few shards break off. So the trees aren't that thick.

I pick up a shard from the floor, careful not to burn my hand. It is like a dagger, and I swing it a few times in front of me. My face stares back at me as it mocks my lack of fighting skills. Better move on.

A few minutes go by, and there is nothing to report. Just more emptiness. Then, I see myself.

My tiny reflection shines in the distance. I tilt my head. The reflection does the same. I wave my hands. Another mimic. It isn't a tree. The reflection isn't curved.

I scramble towards the new surface. My image grows larger with every step. When it stretches to my size, I stop in my tracks.

It is a perfect replica of myself staring at me,copying every move I make. It is a large mirror stretched out as far as I can see. This can't be the end of the arena.

I push my legs sideways and start running parallel to the mirror. My colored shadow keeps following me. I push faster and faster, hoping there i some way around.

After five minutes, I decided to stop. I put my hands on my hips and pant. My running is terrible. I hope my hiding skills are more worthy. I turn towards my reflection. In frustration, I give the mirror a swift kick and let out a grunt to follow it.

My heart drops to my stomach.

My foot disappears through the mirror. The glass breaks, and a hole surrounds my intruding limb. This glass is obviously brittle. I can break through it.

With recharged energy, I kick around the hole with all my might. It grows larger, and I see a grey tiled floor from my standing point of view. I kick higher. Before I know it, a whole about half the height of me is stretching from the floor up. With enough space, I dip down and step through the hole, making sure my head and arms don't hit and broken glass.

There is one big problem.

My foot never hits the ground.

I kick my legs like a dog swimming in a pool, but my feet don't land on the grey tile. Instead, I'm moving froward and hovering a few inches over the floor like a cloud in the sky. I gasp and start to breath heavier. I can still reach my short arms out to the ground, so I do so. I have no idea what to think right now. It appears that there are two arenas. The large dome I just exited, and this place. There is a wide, giant hallway that happens to be right in front of me. It has white walls and pipes snaking on the high ceiling and walls. The circular pathway I am on seems to stretch on both ways, surrounding the massive old arena. I believe the circumference of the pathway around the arena has to be at least two miles. I can't see where the pathway curves.

The hallway seems bare, untouched by any man's foot. But this must have been man made. It is like a tunnel underneath a nuclear bunker.

I stay parallel to the floor. Feeling my way over the cool tile, I push my way forward in a low flight towards the entrance to the long hallway. Again, I can't see where it ends. I do see somethign else on the wall. There is a porthole welded onto the side of the path. I lap my hands towards the porthole. A faint white light emanates from the window, falling through it like curtain.

When I reach the porthole, I pull myself up to eye level with the portal.

I've never seen a more breathtaking sight.

An enormous blue marble with white flakes wrapped around the surface is laid in front of me. The blue and white swirls around it like a hand massaging thick fabric. Dark green is encrusted into the mold, and it moves with the gentle, almost unnoticeable rotation.

Awe is slipping away from me. Instead, a gripping terror envelops me. Almost as if it is trying to suffocate me with smoke from a fierce fire.

I may not even die at home.

I am floating hundreds of miles away.

By myself.

In outer space.

* * *

**Just a little calm after the storm. No big deal. Establshing some situations, and making others up.**

**Question: Will any alliance in these Games make it to the final eight? Maybe not completely intact, but at least there? We have four so far:**

**Careers**

Slate Bedford

Glint Mugg

Satine La'more

Romeo Caliteo

Paige Parker

**Anti-Careers**

Eva-Marie Green

Venus Whitmore

Aaron Artaga

Cadmium Ruse

**Power of Medicine Duo**

Cleo Ellis

Arlyne Hunter

**Katniss/Rue-esque**

Xavier Thomas

Monette Zacharias

**All the others are Lone wolves AT THE MOMENT!**

**Kill Count**

Aslovee Chesed (District 9)-2

Who knew Nine had it in them? And he killed his own District partner?

Slate Bedford (District 2)-2

If there was a Career stereotype, she must be it.

Glint Mugg (District 1)-1

He almost seems to nice to kill. Oh well.

Eva-Marie Green (District 7)-1

Even Johanna had to start somewhere.

**The Sponsors Points Board**

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	33. Day 1: A Boiling Pot

**Paige Parker**

Why does Slate have to be such an arrogant bitch?

I would be perfectly happy with this group if it wasn't for her. Sure, she has kind of roped us up together, especially since Cadmium went AWOL. That's all she's done. She makes us carry all the stuff. We have to go in front of her in case there is some sort of trap or mine. I'd much rather deal with Romeo and Satine waking me up at night than Slate's commanding attitude. All she needs is a whip, and she would be a perfect slaver.

"Can you calm down, Slate? All you need is a whip, and you'd make a perfect slaver."

Slate stops her endless barking and walks up to me. She grips my collar and leans right up to me face. I drop the silver trident, clattering onto the glass ground. Her hot breath mixes with the cold atmosphere and blows out steam at my face. My eyes water from the dry air.

"What did I tell you about talking back?"

"I don't know. We all voted that it was okay."

She let go of me and looked at the others. "This is not a democracy, okay? Focus, or we all die."

Romeo stands in front of Satine. "Excuse me. Could you not yell at us."

"Seriously, Satine. We're all doing our best. We aren't sheep." Glint says.

"And you are no herder," I say with a grin. "So could we chillax?"

Slate squeezes her hair in a tight grip. "No. We cannot 'chillax.' We need to get out of this and away from those assholes. Are you people stupid, or what?"

"Maybe your stupid," I say. "What if there's someone that heard you screaming right now? We'd all be boned."

"Not as boned as your brother was."

My head loses all weight to it. I think my heart is about to burst in a hollow implosion of sadness. How could she say such a thing? Does she not know about how much that still hurts. When my brother died in the Games, I was only ten. I haven't been able to sleep a peaceful night since. Why can't people see who I actually am? I put so much effort into hiding how I feel almost everyday. That sadness just tightens around my spine and never lets go. Alex was the most important person in my life. He was my role model. I learned everything from him. How to swim, use a trident, calling me "Ariel," and everything I hold dear to me came from him. She doesn't know what it was like. Seeing him gutted in the Games by Johanna Mason.

Why did I have to be so unlucky to have him die like that? Why am I so unlucky to be in these Games?

Why am I so unlucky to be stuck with this girl?

"How could you say that? Do you know what I've been through?" I asked. I'm this close to tears. I want to let go of my emotions. It's just way to hard.

Not here. Not with all of these people peeking into my weakest state.

Slate laughter drips with poison. "You don't think I remember those Games? How he squealed as he was sliced in half like a...a...you know. Those circle things with the dough and cheese."

"Pizza," Romeo said, adjusting his trident to stand up straight.

"Fuck you. I'm talking," Slate says. She looks back at me with her ugly sneer. "You see, Four? People don't remember the failures, only the winners."

"So pizza is a failure?" I ask.

"What? No, I'm talking about the Games. Nobody cares about your brother, Four. And I suggest you do the same if you want to make it to tomorrow."

I care about my brother. That doesn't make me a nobody. I need to do something. I've never felt this close to showing just how much I hate these Games and how much I miss Alex.

When Slate pushes past me, I sneak my foot in her path. She clunks it. Her arms flail in the air when she stumbles forward.

The rest of the scene goes in slow motion. Romeo had his trident standing beside him. His chivalrous instinct must have gotten the best of him. He lets go of the trident and dips don to catch Slate. The trident wobbles in the air, spins on it's bottom, and starts to fall down.

Satine may be more devious than I thought.

As the sharp weapon leans towards the ground, Satine nudges the top of it and makes the fall increase in speed. Romeo's catching abilities are to slow. Slate tries to keep her torso up as she goes to the ground, trying to make her upper body hit the ground last with her hands outstretched in front of her. The trident passes Romeo's lowering arms, beating him in the race for the ground. He tips it just a little towards my right making it twirl on it's descent.

And, apparently, in the path of Slate's inclined chest.

She screams when the metal tips of the three ends enter her skin. Her body sinks down on the spears with blood dripping down the length of the trident. Her body stops as the blunt end of the trident is wedged between the smooth glass and Satine's foot causing the trident to keep her hovering above the ground. She grips the handle of the weapon and yanks on it. She tries to slide out of the silver pricks but to no avail.

Glint runs over, kneeling down. The floor is still hot, so Glint hisses in pain. He adjusts himself and instead crouches down by Slate's twitching body.

"What happened?" Glint asks.

"Really Glint?" I ask. I am still in shock. I can't help but be a little happy for this. I hate death, but from my anger and sadness a couple of seconds ago, I feel like her dying body is a great relief, like somebody telling you a very long joke with an excellent punchline.

Slate gargles blood from her mouth. "I've been impaled." She says with a strained voice.

Romeo leans down. I can't believe it. His eyes are growing red and water is filling up his blue eyes. "Slate, I'm so sorry," He pounds the ground, grimacing from the undoubtedly burning impact. "Shit. I can't believe I just killed a girl."

I look up. "So it's okay if it was a guy?"

Romeo moves his vision towards me. "Yeah. It is."

"You don't have to be so nice to her. All deaths are equal, after all."

Slate strains her head towards me. Her breathing increases as she gasps for air. "That's just something ugly people say."

"Burn in hell, Slate." I say.

I can't help turn away from her. I feel horrendous, but at the same time I feel amazing. A piece of that weight has been lifted away. With Slate's death, I feel like I made Alex a little happier and even a little prouder of me.

The thought of Alex patting me on the back makes me smile.

That smile stays throughout the long echo of the firing cannon.

**Xavier Thomas**

Monette is almost inconsolable as I carry her in my arms. Her wispy hair is covering her face and hiding the tears rolling down her small cheeks. She is sniffling in my chest, muffling her cries from the rest of the area.

After a few more minutes of running, I stop in exhaustion. Carrying this weight and running is far too much for me. I lift her down, and she stands on her feet.

I am a little confused over what to do next. My job was to protect both Monette and Caz. Timas was another goal I had in mind. Two of the are already dead. I feel like such a failure. Ten days of bad field work is nothing compared to what I feel right now. My goal in these Games were to keep these children safe. Now, I only have one to guide me through this field of pain.

I put my hands on her cheeks and lift her head up towards me. "You must stop crying."

Monette shakes her head and hugs me. She buries her head in my chest.

I pat her on the back. "You need to look to the future. He would want you to do so."

She looks up at me and rubs away her tears.

"I know it must be hard. I have failed you. Please do not give me the grief of failing again."

She keeps staring at me.

Ultimately, I am lost at what I am planning to do. I can protect Monette. I just don't know what is going to happen when that reaches an end. It is inevitable that this partnership must tear apart. Will it be in a few minutes, or will we make it to the end? What will I do if we make it to the end?

I know I must kill myself if it comes between me and Monette.

I have no intention of killing her myself. Deep down, I know my days are numbered. If I do die, I want to make sure Monette is in a good position to survive. I want my legacy to pass on through the life of an innocent girl. I will do anything to protect her. I know for a fact that the girl from District Seven and the boy from District Nine killed Caz and Timas. With Monette by my side, I will keep her right by me on my next quest.

I must kill both of them.

Fire starts to burn in my chest. They need to suffer the consequences of their actions. They killed the people I must protect, so they must be killed. It is the only way I can achieve peace with myself.

Suddenly, Monette looks up and points above me. I look up.

It seems that there is a small tube on a parachute. It is floating towards the ground, moving back and forth in its descent.

Fortunately, the tube seems to land right beside us. We walk over, and I pick it up. It is a glass tube, and the contents seem to be a rolled up paper of some sort. There is a loose cork on the top. I pull it off, and I spill the paper onto my hand.

Unraveling it, me and Monette's eyes widen.

On the map are three giant circles, the one in the middle larger than the other equally-sized ones. In each of the circles, a smaller one is inside it. It seems to be a dome inside the three circles. A star is located in the center of the middle circle. I am assuming that is where we are. Outside of the large dome we are in, there are various long hallways and smaller rooms joined with the hallways. A few boxes on the edges of the outer circle are marked, and a circular object with a suit of some sort has an arrow pointed at the boxes. A few lines and stars are present on the other giant circles. They seem like islands separated by water.

I give the map to Monette. "Could you tell me what that says? Right there in between the large circles?"

Monette looks at it, and signs something to me.

"I'm sorry. i don't understand."

She flaps her arms.

"Flying? Oh, floating."

She nods her head. Then, she points at one of the puffy suits on the map.

"Is that for water?" I ask.

She shakes her head. Then, she points up at the sky. I look up at the blinding sun surrounded by black.

"The suits are for flying? There are Hovercrafts here?"

She shakes her head again.

I notice something. On the edge of the long map, there is a corner of another circle cut off from the edge of the map. Inside it are weird green shapes. The rest of the corner is blue, and a few more words are on the corner.

Monette points at the corner. She takes her hands, straightens them, and joins them at the fingertips above her head.

"A home?" I ask.

She nods, then points at me.

"My home?"

Another quick nod. She points back at the corner.

"That part is home. Why is the arena separate? By home do you mean District Eleven?"

Her hair bounces as she shakes her head. She does the house gesture again, and points at herself.

"Your home. It's both of our homes. So the corner is Panem?"

Her arms stretch out.

"More than Panem? Wait...the entire Earth?"

She nods, smiling at my success.

I feel a little more scared at what she is saying. I hope she doesn't mean what I think she does. I have no clue what to do if that happens.

"That is the Earth in the corner. The rest of the map is above Earth."

She gives me a thumbs-up, and I am this close to screaming.

My goals are now almost impossible.

I don't have a clue about surviving in space.

**Sirch Lichen**

The entire arena just cracked.

Okay, it didn't crack. It made a cracking noise, though. I was jogging through the mirror forest, when I suddenly see my reflection about half a mile away. I start running over towards it, and I make it to where my reflection's brown eyes are pointed right at me. Just as I touch the frosty mirror, I hear a crack in the distance. Just then, the mirror transforms like a zapping laser. The glass still stands, but instead of a mirror, it was turned into transparent glass like stagnant water.

I saw white walls behind the glass. It seemed to encircle this little snow-globe I was trapped inside. After breaking through it, I gasped at the lack of gravity outside of it. The inner-arena seemed to be surrounded by a much larger one.

A space station.

Now, I am pushing myself down one of the hallways leading away from the smaller arena. At first, I was wondering if I had reached the end of the arena. Now, I realize that the arena is an infinite blanket of black.

None of that private training back home could prepare me for this. I doubt anybody was prepared for this. Even if I only had that Victor to teach me some things and not a whole training center, I think I can hold my own here. My cousin certainly did, and he hardly got any practice. If anything, I should thank him for motivating me to get ready for the Games.

What would Tyler do now?

Me and my cousin were always very close. Sure, I had my internal family, but i could always kick back and spar with him. We fought each other for fun all the time. I hope it pays off in the arena.

Actually, I shouldn't have to hope. I should just act.

As I float down the endless hallway, I try to open up some of the doors on the sides. They won't budge. It seems that there are key cards and number pads on the sides. I'm assuming codes need to be found around here. I have no idea where.

Suddenly, I see a blinking red light coming from an opening on the side. I move forward and come across the open room to the left. Propelling myself from the door frame, I enter the room.

It is a white room that matches the hallway outside. It is more of an outcropping or a cupboard than an actual room. It could be a decent hiding spot for emergencies. It has a convex window that shows the spinning Earth outside. Or maybe we are the ones spinning. What is important is that the light goes off the moment I look into the tiny room. A glass see-through box with a matching sliding front like a microwave is to the right side of the porthole.

What is inside it?

Hell, yeah. Thank you, Capitol people.

I slide open the container and pull out a long tube with a strap on it for carrying on my back. Seeing the handle, I grip it. I pull it back and unsheathe the metal.

I see my grinning reflection in the crystalline sword. I turn it around in my hand, marveling at the amazing weapon.

Now I feel right at home.

I put the sword back in its container. My arm pulls the strap onto my shoulder. Closing the box, I push my way out of the room. My sword clings onto my back when I adjust the polyester strap to close over my shoulder. Back out on the wide space tunnel, I push myself over the floor. I look back behind me, and I gasp in shock.

A kid in front of me with black hair and pitch black eyes looks at me with an uninterested expression.

That's Aslovee.

That short guy that sliced off the most dummies in training.

A small frown is on his face as he floats about twenty yards away from me. He must have gone forward and backtracked towards me.

Guess what? He has a sword, too.

We float in front of each other, like two bulls ready to charge at each other. Not a single noise passes over us. It seems that time has evaded our presence, freezing us in a quiet vacuum of war. I feel a small queasiness brewing in my stomach. This is my chance to prove my training has not been in vain. It's an all out sword fight to the death, and Aslovee is my first opponent.

I've never been so excited in my entire life.

He gives me the smallest of grins. The smaller kid sticks out the sword to his side, almost as if he is begging me to attack.

I reach back and slide my sword out of the thin holster. It stays right in front of me, and I shrug off the container which now floats behind me.

We grip our swords. Each of us holding it parallel to our leg.

Just then, I extend my leg down to the ground.

I thrust forward, my sword right at shoulder height.

He does the same, charging right at me.

Our swords clash.

* * *

**An epic fight is ready to commence. In ZERO GRAVITY! Rest assured, the Game makers will change that as the events wear on. They are all-powerful, after all.**

**Eulogy Time (Plays sad music)**

**16. Slate Bedford  
**

I really didn't like Slate at all. She was that stereotypical Career. Cold, calculating, manipulative. Well, apparently not. You can't be manipulative if you can't trick people into doing your bidding. Realistically, she could have survived a little longer, but it was a drag dealing with her.

**Rest In Peace!**

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	34. Day 1: Midnight (I think)

**Arlyne Hunter**

Traveling through the new area outside of the old arena, I'm a little scared about Cleo. I have no idea what to think about the red haired and green eyed girl. She seems really poised, but isn't very charismatic. I'm a little shocked that someone like me could find an ally in her. To be fair, she was very grateful for the help I gave her in training.

I'm not dumb. I know that she is getting me to tag along to fit her needs. But she fits my needs, too. I need somebody on the offensive side to help me during any fights. I might actually come out on the right side of this. I don't have to be a fighter. I can be like a trainer for a fighter. I can help the fighter make decisions. Then, I can fix her up whenever she needs help. She doesn't know a thing about wildlife our medicine. I can do what I need.

As we fly through the empty hallways, I look out the windows. Earth looks incredible from here. The planet looks so soft and welcoming. Floating above it seems almost therapeutic. It's like we have already died, and we are the victims of a Games long past.

The thought of that makes me whimper slightly. I can't think that way. Not when I'm in the middle of these Games.

Cleo stops in front of me and turns around. "I have no idea where we are going. I'm starting to think there isn't anything around here."

I nod. "There has to be a room around here that has something. Anything."

Cleo turns around. She gasps and points to the end of the lengthy corridor. "There's something."

I look past her and see a bright light flickering ahead. We push on our legs and zip towards the light. Hopefully, this light won't be the one at the end of the tunnel.

When we turn the corner, we see a white door. A yellow light is blinking over it. Cleo stands to the side of it, and I go opposite of her.

"I'll go in first. I can hold my own in a fist fight. What I need you to do is stay behind me. If somebody pops out, you'll be there to counterattack."

I gasp. "I'm sorry, but I can't to that."

Cleo's face distorts in frustration. "Why not?"

"I don't fight. I just repair."

She rolls her eyes. "Fine. Stay behind me, though."

There is a keypad on her side of the door. However, it only says for us to push the enter button. I guess this is an all-purpose room of sorts. I have no idea what to think. All I know is that my heart is beating out of my chest. What if there is something sinister inside? Something that can tear us apart? What if we just see the fangs of some creature impaling us and digesting our innards.

I'm good at freaking myself out.

Cleo smashes the enter button. The door slides open fro the middle; one side moves left, and the other goes right. Cleo wraps her hand around the frame and shoves herself in. I follow.

When she enters the room, she collapses onto the ground. I follow, landing right on top of her. I guess Earths gravity applies in this room. These people are going to make me throw up from all of this topsy-turviness.

Well, if I am to throw up, it might as well be here.

It is a bathroom. A toilet is sitting in a corner, and there is a sink and mirror on the right side. A large glass outcropping gives us a fantastic view of the Earth's glowing atmosphere.

What shocks me is the buzzing I hear as the doors close. I turn to meet the hydraulic hiss. Above it, there is a green ticker. It seems to be counting down a specific time. It starts at twelve minutes, and now it is clicking down.

"Whats the countdown?" I ask.

Cleo looks in the mirror above the sink. "I know as much as you do. I guess we only have twelve minutes in here. I don't want to see what happens next. I guess we should take a breather."

I stay on the ground and look out at the Earth. "I'm just relieved it wasn't anything bad."

"Who says it's not? For all we know, the worst is yet to come."

I know the worst is yet to come. I like to dream, but I am realistic. I know my window of opportunity is shrinking rapidly. I simply don't know what to do about it yet.

That cannon noise I just hear certainly doesn't help.

I can't stop myself from letting out a quick scream.

**Aslovee Chesed**

Our swords groan under the pressure of our pushing forearms. On the impact, we actually start to float away from each other. I'm not having any of that. I take my right arm and scoop him back towards me. We are locked in a standstill between our swords, floating slightly backwards.

I look right into this guys eyes. His name is Sirch, but I would prefer not to humanize him. He is grunting like a madman. I'm already feeling a little bored by this. I think it shows, because he lets out a yell.

His sword slides away from mine down towards my side. Pointing the end at me, he jabs it right to my middle.

Too bad he left his torso wide open.

I put a hand on his shoulders and shove him to the side. As he floats towards the wall, I swing my sword. I hear ripping of fabric, and I swing it back in front of me. Using my legs, I spin myself to face him.

The sword barely grazed his side. He huffs out a groan when he hits the wall. He looks up at me. It seems like a mixture of shock and awe.  
Most importantly, his face transforms into anger. His eyebrows arch, and he feels his cut. The boy lets out a gasp, the touch undoubtedly stinging his open wound. Despite clutching the sliced spot, he springs back to action. Literally. He stomps his foot on the wall. The sword goes in front and streamlines towards me.

I will be the first to say that I am not a midget. I'm shorter than other people, but that should not classify me as lesser than others. Maybe that is why it pisses me off so much. People think that I'm not strong or able to hold my own. I've lived on the streets for as long as I can remember. I've made men two feet taller than me and ten years older my bitches.

This guy is no different.

Using my height to my advantage, I lift up into a ball as I somersault. He charges at a full head of steam. Right when his sword is about to reach its destination, I stretch out into full form.

My legs kick reach out and deflect the sword up. The force sending him sprawling above me.

I roll myself to face the ceiling. My back is about two feet above the ground. The guy crashes into the ceiling before turning to face me. He takes a deep breath. Like diving into an ocean, he springs down towards me.

I stop him from forcing me onto the ground by thrusting my forearms out. My sword is crossed in front of my face. His sword clanks on mine again. I lift my weapon up like I am doing a bench press. He gasps when he shoots back to the ceiling, bumping into it again. This guy is going to have some bruises tomorrow. On his corpse.

We are at about an arms length of each other. It is the perfect space for flashing our swords.

With both of us parallel to the ground, he hovers over me. He aims straight for my chest. I hit the side of his sword, deflecting his shot towards the air beside me. With his arm out of the way, I jab for his lower chest. He rolls to his side, and

I barely nick his jumpsuit. I feel a little disappointed. I really wanted to draw blood on that one.

He bounds of the wall with his sword hand. It swings down like a pendulum towards my side. I block it on the downswing of my last attack. With the moment of the impact, I swing up and put a hand on the floor. With a mighty push, I rise to the ceiling and give him another jab as he rights himself.

It catches air. His leg stomps on the incoming ground, and he joins me at the ceiling. He leads into his ascent with another uppercut swing. This time it directs towards my leg. I twirl like a ballerina, closing my legs closer towards me in a tight spiral. He corrects himself, takes his free arm, and crashes into my lower body.

We tumble over and over down the long hallway. Soon, we are going so fast that I can't tell the floor from the ceiling; the colors meld together like a white tapestry scorched with smoke. We both are clutching our swords, and they flash like lighting as we continue to fly.

In our tight ball, I take my sword and meet his shoulder. On another rotation, him over me, I decide it's best to break apart this happy gathering. I take the blade an press it to his shoulder. On the final revolution, I push him away from his tight grasp with all my strength.

The blade slices right through his shoulder.

He screeches when I let him go. He flies backwards until hitting a pipe on the side. The boy stops. He clutches his bleeding shoulder and hisses.

We stare at each other. Another standstill.

He huffs harder.

"We would make a pretty badass team. How about we clear this arena out together?" He says.

Sorry, sugar. My work is done by myself.

It looks like he realizes that. With another push off the pipe, he shoots right at me, his left side perched back as his sword side is cocked towards me.

Looks like this is easier than I thought.

I crouch down from his sword. It goes right over me. My sword points right at his gut. His momentum matches my arms, and I thrust forward onto his wide-open target.

Impact.

He gargles as the sword runs right through his body. The blade in his other hand floats away, his grip letting it fly forward. He keeps letting out gutter all sounds. I look at him, and see his eyes darken. They are wide in shock and scared for what follows.

I stretch back up and push down on his shoulder blades. He let's out a quick shriek. Whoops. Forgot one of those was cut. I met his eyes to mine. I can almost see my reflection in them already.

He keeps gasping like a fish out of water. He tries to move his mouth, attempting to form his words.

"Could you say that again, please? I didn't catch that."

He draws in a quick breath. "About time you grew to eye-level."

He just called me a midget.

Okay, time to die.

I push him down to the ground while pulling the sword out of his popped gut. He is still gasping for air, any last inkling of life we can recieve before I steal it away.

I lift his upper chest up slightly. Then, I make sure he is completely parallel to the floor. Just setting up how I'll do this.

I take the sword, looking one last time in the crimson running down the sharp blade.

I watch it disappear into District Ten's throat.

The sword stabs into the ground. Surprisingly, it sticks into it, leaving him nailed down by his neck like a small painting.

He gasps one more time, blood gurgling out of his mouth. Very odd. The blood that is running out of his wounds are bubbling up around his skin. It's as if they were bubbles. The blood released from the throat is now floating in mid-air. The small crimson bubbles are levitating around us, imprisoning us in a small area of red. The floating droplets hovering around me were like rain frozen in time, simply watching over me and this dead corpse. I don't mean to sound like a sadist, but the suspended blood is unlike a sight I've ever seen.

Wait? He's dead, right?

Boom.

That's better.

I take out my sword.

Stupid fucking bitch.

"Damn asshole ruined my sword." I say.

My sword has red bubbles grown on it, and the blade is even a little duller.

Now I have to watch out for any of the flying red liquid. I hate getting my clothes dirty.

**Aaron Artaga**

I can't help but smile as the television screens come down from the ceilings.

It means we have survived a whole day. We have passed the first test of being a Tribute. Now, we have to ee through tho the very end. It boosts my confidence, because it makes me believe that we have a decent chance out here.

The national anthem starts to blare from the speakers hidden everywhere in this giant spaceship. When the plasma televisions come down, the Panem flag comes up on the screen. After a few seconds, a face begins to appear. Some guy from District Eight, I think.

We go through the rotation of Bloodbaths. None of them particularly surprise me. Then, I come across Slate Bedford from District Two. That was the very girl Eva-Marie decided to knock down the first day in training. Who knew she would be dead on the first day? I would pay to see what happened to her.

The boy from District Ten comes up next. I'm certain his cannon was about two hours ago. He was the last death for the televisions shut off and elevate back into the ceiling.

I hate to say I am happy for anybody's death. However, I have to celebrate being in the sweet sixteen at the most. Ten deaths in the first day has to be close to a record of some sort. Maybe these Games won't last as long as people think. Or maybe I am completely wrong. I don't see how most of the other Tributes are going to die anytime soon.

Especially not us. Eva-Marie doesn't hide her excitement, and gives a quick fist pump in the air. Cadmium shouts out in joy at Slate being called up. Apparently, she was giving Cadmium the worst time about leaving the Career. I don't think anybody is sad to see her go. Venus doesn't smile at any of the Deaths. She stares up at the screen like a weather report was given instead of a death count. Maybe there are real humans in this arena.

I'm not at all saying Eva-Marie is not a human. We are as close as friends could be without being romantically involved. I hoped that would change soon, but she had other plans in dragging me to the Games. I kind of hoped her idol's, Johanna Mason, death would have discouraged her. True to form, she became more energized than ever, and was sold on going to the Games the moment the training center in Seven was opened. I really wish we could have just grown old in our District, she could break up with her boyfriend, Nathaniel, and we can enjoy our lives. Instead, she brought us to hell. I guess if there was one person I would want to go to hell for, it would be her. Sadly.

Cadmium is not a typical Career. He is strong, cocky, and has a self-entitlement that makes Eva-Marie look like a charitable saint, but I have a feeling that it is just a ruse. He probably really hates what he is in. I can tell on his face. He is easy to read expression-wise. He is an amazing actor. Too bad I grew up with the master of acting, Eva-Marie. Also, let's not forget that Cadmium is pretty much all brawn and no brain. By himself, he would probably die from eating some poisonous berries. Not saying that isn't an honorable death, though. Eva pokes fun at him, which she shouldn't do. Careers are generally angry, competitive people. Me and Venus have to get her to back off. I don't think Cadmium can take much more frustration. Then again, it is three-on-one. Eva-Marie has close up knife attacks and throws, Venus has her long-range arrows (even if it is only six at the moment), and I pride myself on being a good hand-to-hand fighter. Cadmium won't stand a chance if he tried anything.

Venus is probably the most real person out of all of us. She genuinely looked deflated with the Death count. She still has that spunky, brave and confident attitude. She doesn't want any violence, but that is something I think we all have accepted at this point. She seemed way too cocky at Training, but I've quickly learned that was just a show. She probably just wanted to make a lasting impression. I'm glad to see she has reigned that in. If only I could get Eva to do the same. I'm hoping me and Venus could help her with that. Sadly, while Venus's cockiness seemed to be an exaggeration of her perceived independent mindedness, Eva-Marie is very much this same person at home.

Yes, Eva, Johanna would be proud.

"I noticed something," I say.

The others look at me. Pointing out the window next to me, I see a spaceship floating about a mile or so away from us. It is a circular, thick ship with a glass bulge in the middle. Assuming it is like the one here, that should be a smaller copy of this space station.

"I see that there are two spaceships orbiting this one. They seem to pass every hour or so. They get closer for about a minute, then they go back away."

"You want us to go to one of them and see what is there." Eva asks.

I nod. "I haven't seen any food or water around here. There has to be something over there."

"What if it's more dangerous?" Cadmium asks.

"Are you afraid, Cad?" Eva says with a grin.

Venus puts her hand on Eva's shoulder. "We're all a little afraid. Aren't we, Aaron?"

What's she asking me for? "I think it's best that we find a way over. There has to be an opening somewhere around here. It seems like there is an outer ring to this giant ship. I think we just have to get through this maze of halls and find the outer ring. It seems like some of the halls are built on the outer ring like this one, but it's not. That way, they can trick you into thinking that you are on the outside when you are not."

"And because it's tilted, we wouldn't know the difference anyway," Venus says.

"Exactly. The axis of this ship changes every now and then. That way, we don't know where we are facing, exactly. I'm assuming we are spinning horizontally, as well. We are moving up and around at the same time."

"Pretty smart." Eva says. Of course she would compliment the Capitol.

"So, when we find the outer ring, we find a way to the next station," Cadmium says

"I'm assuming there is food and water there."

"And if there isn't?" Cadmium asks.

I pause. I look back out at the traveling satellite. Satellite in a metaphorical sense, of course. "There's not really any other option. There's a reason why there is anther station. Maybe the goods have been spread."

"I'm assuming there is another cornucopia in those glass domes," Venus says.

"In that case, we need to hurry before there is another bloodbath," Eva says.

I nod. Right. It looks like we are faced away from the Earth almost at a forty-five degree angle. So we should turn right at the next ring and keep going until we are flat again."

"Right-O. Lead the way," Venus says. I turn around and float in front.

"Let's just hurry. I'm bigger than you all, so I need to eat more." Cadmium says.

"Don't let us stop you. There's plenty of meat on you to chew on."

"Eva, Calm down. Be the bigger woman." Venus says with a small smile.

"I saw that smile. You thought it was funny, too." Eva shoots back with a stifled giggle.

"She laughed because it was so unfunny, it was funny." I say, turning my head to catch Eva's vision.

She flips me off.

How did I fall for this woman?

* * *

**Time for some travel through space. A nice spacewalk to lay off some steam after almost dying a hundred times in a day. Ah, the pleasure of the possibility of being sucked into eternal oblivion.**

**Eulogy Time (plays sad music)**

** Lichen**

Sirch was a decent man. He had nice fighting skills. He had a very agreeable personality that befit him well. Grated, his backstory was kind of pretentious, but so are a lot of people's. I apologize to sonofthetrigod for killing all of his tributes early, but this battle was an opportunity not to be missed.

**Question: How far would Miley Cyrus get in the Games? (I am setting up a poll, so vote on that. I will award points for poll voters.**

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	35. Day 2: Dawn?

**Monette Zacharias**

For some reason, I'm not as sad about Caz as I should be.

I'm heartbroken. My amazing Caz is gone, and I will never see him again, but I don't feel as upset as I thought I would be. Is it because of these games? Probably. Even with that, I feel like time has slowed down my body. My mind has shut down to an image of Caz's dead body limp on the ground.

I've always made a point to be nice and accepting of others. Sadly, some people don't take others for what they are. Instead, they shun others that are different. Panem is not a friendly place for people that can't contribute to society. I wish things could change. There needs to be a place where people with disadvantages are not hidden away from society, but helped by others.

Caz was always there for me. No matter who I was or what lack of communication we had, he simply tried harder and harder to know me instead of giving up like so many other people. Being probably the youngest person in these Games, I know I haven't experienced as many things as the other Tributes. And I don't want to seem like a pity case. I feel that I have experienced more hardship than most of the others in these Games.

Going through the map with Xavier, we decided that the best way to go is to the out ring. The spaceship works like a maze. The exit appearing to be the outer ring. After that, we need to travel to one of the other spaceships. We walked around the glass dome, but we found nothing. If there is food and water there, it must be hidden underneath our feet.

As we approach the few remaining turns to the exit, I start to yawn. The Games have been going on for roughly twelve hours. I don't know if it is daytime or nighttime. I do know that I am tired. I turn to Xavier, and put my hands together. Then, I put them on the side of my face and tilt my head on them.

Xavier nods. "I know. Once we get to that room, we'll be able to sleep."

Xavier is great. I don't feel unsafe around him at all. I truly feel that if it came down to the two of us, Xavier would let me win. I don't want him to sacrifice himself. If hiding behind somebody is what it takes to win, I don't want to be that way. Xavier deserves better than a mute twelve year old girl that doesn't know up from down in this arena. Caz wouldn't want it that way.

I need to let go of Caz. I can save my tears for later.

Me and Xavier make it to a door. Xavier presses the button, and we walk in. I almost stumble to the ground as I feel the gravity pushing us back down to the floor. Xavier catches me in his thick arms. I smile as he puts me down.

Apparently, there is a lock on the door. Xavier pushes it, and a click is heard. I feel much safer with the door being locked. I can't help but breathe out in comfort.

I have no idea what to do next. Tomorrow, we have to go and find real food which is probably across that black river called outer space. We can hardly drive a space ship. But it is our only shot at getting anything in this place. Unless something happens in this room. That scares me to no end, but if it were to happen, at least it would be in my sleep.

"I believe the door is locked. We should be safe here for now. How about you sleep and I'll take watch?"

I don't believe there is a need for a watch. The door should hold up. Even if it is broken down, we should be able to escape out the other door.

I tap him on his shoulder. He turns around. I point to the ground.

"Fine. I will rest for a little bit. But only because you want me to."

I know he is lying. He has to be tired. Regardless, I'm glad we can get a little peace in these Games. We don't have to worry about anything for now.

**Romeo Caliteo**

Closing up shop for the night, I really start to wonder how my family feels at home. My mom has never been very responsive towards me and my brothers. Except for the one that got her pregnant. Incest has always freaked me out. It's a strange fear, but It just about killed my home life. I remember when things were so much easier. Lure and my othe brothers would swim out in the ocean. My mom always made the best tuna salad. While I sat on the sand, she called us in around sunset, and we would eat in the dining room. It was overlooking the water, and it glistened like quartz on a cave wall. My life was so much simpler and enjoyable.

Yes, I know I'm not somebody to pity. I have the looks and gentleman attitude to draw in any girl. Yes, I've almost sleep with half of the District. That doesn't make me happy. What would make me happy is finding just one girl that would care for more than my body. It makes e feel miserable to know that I'm just a piece of meat to everybody, including my lifeless family.

Satine turns her head towards me. "You know, for as much as we've been together, I don't know a thing about you."

Paige and Glint are keeping watch outside. They're going to stay up for a while. Which means that me and Satine get plenty of alone time in this blank room.

We are laying next to each other. She has her arm around me, and I am looking up at the ceiling. Why do I feel so guilty about Slate? Nobody liked her. She was bossy and was also part of the reason why Cadmium left. I guess I can't help feeling awful about actually taking a life. It's the Games. I know that. Does it make a real death any easier? I don't think so.

Above all, my first kill was a girl. A girl! And on accident. Not only is my whole image ruined, but my own strategy of being a lovable gentleman is gone. How are others going to

"Tell me about District 4. Is it as gorgeous as I think?"

This makes me freeze. I really wanted to keep my family and home as far away from this goddess as possible. "What makes you think it's gorgeous?"

"If guys like you come from there, it has to be worth it."

I chuckle. I might as well play coy with this. "First off, it always smells like salt. You get used to it after a few minutes, but make no mistake. It's always there. Also, there are fish markets everywhere. Salmon, trout, tilapia, shrimp, anything you can imagine is there. There's even a whale once in a while. I heard killing those were illegal a long time ago, but nobody cares now. Basically, every stereotype imaginable about my home is true."

Satine snuggles up closer to me. "I get that. I meant about your home. What's your family like?"

Please, whoever is out there. Strike me with lightning now. How could I tell Satine about my mom and my older brother sleeping with each other when I went shopping at the fish market. "They're just a normal family. I have three brothers."

"But are they good?"

"Of course they're good," I say with a rough voice. "We're a perfect family. Everything is sunshine and roses for us."

She looks at me. I sigh. Now I'm losing my temper. With a girl. With Satine of all people. I'm a fail of a gentleman. How can I keep chivalry alive if it already caused a death just yesterday. I could shoot myself now. The silence is shocking me like a lightening bolt in a pond. I need to collect my thoughts and keep my calm. Panicking in the Games never helped anybody. "I'm sorry, baby. It's complicated."

It's amazing how great of a woman Satine is. She presses her lips to mine. I lose myself in her kiss. It's a taste of sweet, delectable bliss that lifts me away from the dangers of my reality. She pulls away. "Don't worry. I'm not going to run away."

She lifts herself up and straddles my hips. She puts her hands on my chest and smiles. "You haven't asked about my family yet."

"Okay. Shoot, babe."

"It's my acting troupe. That's my family."

"No parents?"

Satine's grin falters for just an instant before returning. "Like you said, the perfect family."

Now, I've always felt that Satine has a darker side to her past. I know she is from One, and she loves the theatre. I know about her friends there. Beyond that, I don't know about her parents or home life. I didn't want to ask her. If I asked her that, then she would reciprocate. Now that this conversation has come up, I need to shut it down as soon as possible. She doesn't want to talk about it. I don't want to bring it up again either.

Fortunately, Satine decides to change the subject. She reaches back for the hem of the top of her jumpsuit. "You know, there are no rules about having some fun in these Games."

Before she can lift it up, I take her hands in mine.

"What's wrong, Romeo. Camera shy? Come on. I'm sure the sponsors will appreciate this." She whispers.

I smile at her and put my hands on her hips. "As tempting as that sounds, could we just relax? It's been a long day for me."

She collapses on top of me, her face an inch from mine. She gives me another quick kiss. "Alright, Romeo."

Some people think that I am obsessed with her. Even if it is just for a few more days, this amazing girl has changed my entire life. When it is all set and done, I can say that I finally found somebody that wants me for who I am.

**Venus Whitmore**

We decided it was best to hunker down for the night. Finding a safe corner of the arena on our way towards the air lock, me and Eva fell asleep in one of the empty (I hope it's empty) white rooms. Cadmium was forced to check for any traps inside. The check was cleared. Looks like the Capitol wants us to have energy for the next push. I can't help but think that something will happen. They can't have over seven hours of complete silence in the Games.

After our turn was up, the boys got a chance to sleep while we floated by the doors. My bow and arrows tuck behind me, and her belt of three knives tightened around her waist.

Believe it or not, me and Eva-Marie have gotten along pretty well. After getting over that whole "almost cutting your hand off" thing in training, I think we realized that our needs are more important than a grudge. I'm glad I don't have to worry about being stabbed. Yet.

Standing here is creeping me out, though. Both ends of the hall mock me in fake jump scares and terror. Every two minutes, I see a movement in the corner of my eye. It always turns out to be her flicking her hair back or my own bow crossing into my field of vision. I need to relax.

Talking always works. Let's try that.

"Do you think we're crazy, Eva?"

A decent conversation starter. I used it all the time with Dove, my best friend.

Eva-Marie stares at me. "Is that a trick question?"

I turn to her. "I've noticed that whenever people are killed outside of these Games, y'know, in the real world, they're labeled as having some sort of mental illness and thrown in jail. I'm not a doctor, but I think crazy is pretty easy to spot. But when we kill, it's normal. Have you ever noticed that on Earth every murderer outside the Games is insane? How come there are no sane murderers?"

"Sanity is dead, anyway."

"I wonder who killed it." Humor always worked at home. Then again, I can't say my brand of humor is easily understood, if even there.

"You must be a really intuitive cookie." Eva says.

I sigh. "Do you not want to talk?"

"Chit-chat isn't my forte." She says.

I smile at her. "It's called having a conversation, Eva. It's between two people that like each other. I'm sure you've had them before."

Eva-Marie laughs. "Like each other? When did you get that idea?"

"I overheard you talking to Aaron in training. You said you only let people that you like call you Eva."

Eva coughs like a choking cat. After grabbing her breath, she wipes her moist eyes. "It's the Games. I forgot things like that sometimes."

"Regardless, since we're going to be around each other, we should get to know each other."

Eva's green eyes point right at mine. Her stare is a little unsettling to me. "That's exactly why we shouldn't know each other. I'd rather not grow attached."

Maybe I should relate to her a little more. We are all on edge right now. "What about Aaron?"

"I know. I don't know what I am going to do when that time comes."

Progress! If she hated me, I would've been yelled at.

"I'm sticking with him until the end. If you want to do so as well, then you have to play the game." She continues.

"Then we'll play the game together," I say. "Like Aaron said, the only way to learn if you can trust someone is to trust them."

Eva-Marie sighs. "How about this? From now on, you stay behind me, and I'll be in front. That way, I get close-range, and you get long-range. Career and Aaron will be in the middle. We need to figure out a formation anyway."

"Sounds good to me. We'll complement each other well. It reminds me of this guy I knew. His name is Sterling. We used to sneak out to...uh, never mind. Cameras are around."

Eva chuckles. "Venus, did you break the law?"

"It wasn't against the law. We just bent the rules some."

"Tell me where you went."

I might as well tell her a few thing about me, too. If she likes me, the chances of her helping me out in a tight spot are eve higher. "There's this place in Twelve called the seam. Apparently, another word for it is the 'ghetto.' I never heard that word before, so maybe it's just Capitol slang.

"Not really. I hear that everywhere."

"So we always went there. We lived on a better side of town. There's kind of a line between us and the seam. It's guarded by a lot of Peacekeepers. I guess they don't want people to go over there anymore."

"From all that's happened there in the past two years?" She asks. At least she is interested now.

"Maybe. There's some really cool things there. I wish people would look past the grime."

"Grime is a good warning, though. If people see grime, they know to watch where they're stepping."

I feel my face warm barely. This may just seal the deal between us. Otherwise, I look like a huge idiot. "Can I show you something?"

"I'll humor you."

I whip out a pendant with a red circle from underneath my collar. It has a "I got this from my mom. It's the planet Venus. Funny, right? I know it sounds silly, but I was almost happy when I learned where we are. At home, I looked up at night to find Venus, and I never could with the air being all polluted. Twelve has a lot of smoke from the coal mines. You probably knew that, though. I'm hoping that I can finally catch a glimpse. It sounds stupid, but I want to see it so badly.

Eva and I stare at each other. I guess I must be blushing from sharing something like that. I feel so embarrassed now. This silence is even more uncomfortable. I don't want to call myself an open book, but I try to be a face-value sort of person. Maybe I made a few mistakes at the start of this whole thing. I know I had the moment I talked to Joshua in my bedroom that night after training. Having real allies was a way to make up for that.

How am I gong to keep that up for so long?

"You know, I'm actually a little jealous of you."

What? Is she making fun of me?

"How so?"

"You'd be happy if you saw Venus, right?" Eva says.

I nod.

"How come I can't be happy over things like that? How come small things don't matter to me anymore?"

We float in silence. Sometimes, there is a pause in life where you feel like there isn't anything that needs to be said. Words should just soak into your skin and be appreciated for what they are. There doesn't need to be a second meaning or a secret agenda. I think that's why I actually like Eva. She says what they mean, and that's it. No further explanation needed. So how could I match that?

"It's okay."

She smiles again.

For a few more seconds, things seem in order. Suddenly, we hear a knock on the door. When we open it, Aaron shouts about sponsors. We rush to the window, and Eva gasps at the image outside.

A thick white rope is swimming in front of us. There is a sponsor note. "As one door closes, another door opens." It is addressed towards Eva.

"Well, we have to go and get whatever the hell it is." She says.

Just like that, we need to go out there.

It was only a matter of time before we had to go into space.

* * *

**Good Old Character development. Sorry about the inaction here, but I needed to set things up. Anyway, we had quite a few action scenes the last three chapters. The Games can't always be a roller coaster, Ya know.**

**Please look at the sponsor opportunities in the sponsor chapter. Also, give me plenty of constructive criticism towards the content and characterizations.**

**Kill Count**

Aslovee Chesed (District 9)-3

Who knew Nine had it in them? And he killed his own District partner? Too bad Sirch had to go against a swordsman.

Slate Bedford (District 2)-2

If there was a Career stereotype, she must be it. Good riddance.

Glint Mugg (District 1)-1

He almost seems to nice to kill. Oh well.

Eva-Marie Green (District 7)-1

Even Johanna had to start somewhere.

Romeo Caliteo (District 4)-1

He touched the trident last before it pierced her, so it is technically his kill. Figures.

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	36. Day 2: Quiet at midday

**Glint Mugg**

We keep moving through the halls. Romeo is tugging Satine along with her hand. His other hand clutches the mace we snatched at the Cornucopia. Paige is behind me with a silver trident. I hold a throwing axe in front of me as I take charge. Just the way I like it.

Since Slate was wiped off the board, I decided to take control. Paige is too young and kind of air-headed. Romeo is too busy making sure Satine doesn't get a scratch on her (already failed at that), and Satine seems content with the backpack of beef jerky we have rationed out. Somehow, we are cooperating well with each other. There is no real battle for supremacy here. For a Career pack, this must be extremely rare.

"Do you know where we are going?" Satine asks.

I turn to her with a grin. "Of course. I have a good sense of direction, you know."

"Then where are we going?" Romeo asks.

I look over to Paige who huffs. "Obviously, we are searching for others."

I chuckle and nod at her. "Correct. We need to sniff out the others in order to figure things out."

Satine rolls her eyes. "Well, it's clear to me that we need to find out whats going on with those other parts of the arena outside."

Romeo pulls her closer to him. "There's probably a hatch we need to use to go out there."

"Anyone else freaked out by space walking?" Paige says while lifting her hand in the air.

"Ridiculous. Don't you know who we are? We are the alpha-dogs here. We can't just scurry around and what until somebody messes up. We have to be their big mess up. With Slate out of the way, we can do anythng. Once we get out of this maze, we should have smooth sailing the rest of the way."

I believ what I am saying for the most part. The "smooth sailing" was a little bit of an exaggeration, but the alpha-dog part is true. We are the best people in this arena. Who cares about Cadmium or Slate. They were nobodies that couldn't hang with us. Now, anything is possible. All we have to do is find the others, knowck them out, and I can take this thing for myself.

I can't fade out of these Games. Whether I die or not is not the end of my goal. Preferably, I want to win. Who deosn't? What my real goal entails is to be remembered. If I can keep my confidence and power up, all the people on Earth will love me forever.

Wow. All he people on Earth. How exciting is that?

Suddenly, I hear a hissing slide emanate from around the corner of us and a curved hallway. I'm assuming this is the outer edge of the ship. I turn arund and put a finger on my lips.

As slow as a sloth, I poke my head around the corner.

A freckled girl with dark red hair is looking through a mirror in a door. The door just slid shut before we got there.

My plan is going to work out just fine.

**Cleo Ellis**

Arlyne is in the bathroom as I stay in the hallway. Watching over her is a little aggravating. I know I should be happy with keeping her around, but she is quickly showing herself as being a nuisance. She is just way, way too sweet and modest. I'm starting to wonder whether it is worth it to keep her around.

Okay, I've been wondering for a while about it. Regardless, I know we have to keep going for now. It's only a matter of time before something happens.

Wait a minute.

What about the countdown?

Above the door in the bathroom is a countdown clock. When we left the room a few hours ago, it was at twelve minutes. Now, Arlyne is in there with about four minutes to go. I keep wondering what will happen when the countdown is over. The keypad next to the door has green letters on the small screen saying "unlocked." A few numbers and a red button are underneath the electronic sign.

I know there is a keypad on the other side, but what if the functions over there were somehow disabled?

I can't do that yet. We need to stick with each other.

As I look at the enticing sign, I feel a whizzing from my head. A metallic ring comes from the rebounding object, along with the dying drift on my cheek.

The trident floats next to me. It spins away from the end of the hallway. With a twirl, I turn. My heart freezes on impact with my vision.

It's the Careers.

The shorter blonde girl groans and clenches her fists. That guy from District One is next to her with a short axe scrahes his head with the sharp edge of the weapon. He exudes the cockiness of the classic Career pack. The two love birds are behind her, grinning at the sight of a cornered victim.

Cornered victim, huh? That's interesting. Especially when they just gave me a free trident.

I grasp the trident and point it towards them. "Think this will be easy, huh?"

"Yup," Glint says.

Romeo lets go of Satine's hand and psushes towards me. He thrusts the mace right at me. I duck down. He sails over me. Unfortunately, the points on the mace reached out towards my shoulder. It sticks through my suit, and it digs into my skin.

I shout out in pain. My hand shoots up to the torn area. The stinging of my wound overcomes the diffusing blood pooling around my shoulder. I turn around. Romeo bounces off the end of the hallway. Just as he stretches his mace out again, I deflect the jagged edges away from my face with the trident. The mace moves to the side and leaves his shoulder open. I poke through the air, using his momentum against him. The trident jabs at his shoulder, and he yells while letting go of the mace.

The mace flies through the air at full force. Interesting how inertia works up here. I may enjoy it.

With no force to stop it, the mace rockets through the cool air right at the little career pack.

The little girl from Four dips down and does an aerial cartwheel. The mace splits between her legs. Satine isn't so lucky. She leaps up towards the ceiling, planning for the free weapon to run underneath her. She misjudges the speed, and the mace dives into her side. An ear-piercing scream cuts through the freezing air.

Wait. Freezing air?

The air around us has become extremely cold. Our breath is pilfering out of our warmer mouths. It is almost like the conditions of the bio-dome. Even the walls are starting to form icicles that are snaking along the panels. It's hurting me to breath; the air is stabbing a knife in my lungs.

Satine was only scraped on her side, sadly. She's milking it for all it's worth. Glint jumps back and takes Satine by her shoulders. He leads her away around the corner closest to them with a backpack in tow. The Four girl is racing for the mace still moving down the curved hallway.

Meanwhile, Romeo's eyes glare at me like a deadly snake. I know he and Satine are clearly a thing, but it shouldn't mean anything, right? It's just the Games. He's looking at me like I just killed his mother.

Apparently, he is infuriated at me. Romeo comes right at me and clutches my neck. My throat feels like it is collapsing on itself. I feel air bubbles form in my mouth, gargling from the back of my throat as Romeo squeezes harder and harder. Red circles are dotting my vision. The frigid wall collides with my back. Cold seeps through my jumpsuit and adds to the pain my exploding head is starting to feel.

It can't end like this.

I can't be choked out by the love bird from District Four. How did he even get this far? How did I even get this far? Where is Arlyne? Are my parents looking right now? Why wouldn't they? How does it feel to see your daughter die?

Romeo let's go. Like an eel, he swims away from me. I massage my hot neck, roping in any of the frigid air left. I can't even think anymore as the adrenaline kicks through my blood vessels.

Arlyne. She's still in the bathroom. Probably hiding.

When I turn to the door, the trident is standing right by it. There's a major problem. The keypad seems to have been hit in our little fray. When Romeo first charged at me with the mace, he must have hit the keypad. Sparks are hopping away from the mangled metal. The buttons and wires have been sheared away from the surface, meeting into a clumped mess of electric tunnels.

I try to press what is left of the open button. It doesn't budge. The ice is forming even faster around us. It coats the edges of the door frame into the room.

Suddenly, Arlyne's small hands slap onto the pane. Her fingers leave imprints on the frosty glass. Suddenly, her face lifts up to the window. Her breath leaves small dew spots. She looks horrendous. Her eyes are watering, and her cheeks are beet red from walloping winter. The rest of her face is turning into a small hue of light pink and violet.

"Arlyne. Why didn't you call me?" I ask.

She coughs. "I've been screaming myself hoarse," she says in a slow huff. It sounds like the wheezing of an old man with a smoker's cough. The muffling of the thick glass doesn't help, either.

I feel my fingers around the doorframe. The ice zaps my wrinkling digits from the metal. Instead, I tap on the door with my knuckles. "Can you open it?"

She starts to breath faster. "I can't. I've already tried it. The ice is stopping it."

I look back at her. "The keypad is broken, too." Suddenly, a loud, robotic ticking comes from the room, like a bomb waiting to burst. That was happening before the Careers came. Did it shut off during the fight? No. Why would it do that? It's gotten louder and faster. I feel my nerves wind up like a compressed spring.

"Hang on. Is that why they left?"

Arlyne keeps gasping. "That's what I was telling you. The clock is at one minute."

No. This can't be happening right now. My one ally is stuck in a frigid room like a prison. Now, the clock is winding down. What will follow? I can't think. I need to get her out of here. We need to get out before this happens.

"Please...help me. I don't want to die." Arlyne says with a high-pitched whimper trailing away at the end.

I slam my hands on the door. "Shut up. You're my medic. I got a cut on me. You need to come out here and make it better. Right? You're not supposed to leave me here. We had a deal."

"I don't want to die. Help me. Cleo, please." Arlyne shouts out in her hacking voice. Tears are bubbling around her eyes, and her hands are glued to the window.

I hit the door with all my might. I kick it, punch it, ram into it. I try to wedge through the cracks and pry it open. Nothing is working. I'm shaking harder than ever. Not from the cold. My nerves have never been so wracked up. I feel like I'm on a table, and a pendulum is swinging right above me. I lay there, waiting for impact on my stomach.

"Cleo, there's twenty seconds left. You have to leave."

"I'm almost there. Relax." I shout.

"No. You can't do it."

"Yes I can." I shout again.

"Run. Just run." Arlyne shouts.

I let out a scream. The beeping is getting faster and louder. I can't take this anymore. I have to run away. Ignoring the cold, I freeze burn my hands by pushing off the frame. I heave myself harder and harder like an accelerating rocket.

I grab at anything to propel me away from what is about to happen.

I think I hear Arlyne give out one more scream before the explosion.

The vacuum of space tries to drag me back towards the small hole in the spaceship. I grab onto the pole welded into the wall at the corner of intersecting hallways. I look back. The dispersing flames behind me melt into the backdrop of space. The loose metal dips away from my sight. It falls away like a disappearing cloud. Red lights spin above me. An alarm blares out as I feel my fingers slipping. If I try to adjust my grip, my arms will probably be torn away from the pole. In about ten seconds, I'll fly off into the unknown anyway.

Can I climb out of here? Nope. Nothing else to hold on.

My only hope is to somehow wait for a body to fly towards me. Maybe I can latch onto a flying person and thrust myself forward.

I hold my breath. The air seems to be flowing faster and faster away. I know the odds are small, but what if the arena runs out of air?

What can I do now? There's no other way to go.

Right before I let go, I hear a rumbling behind me.

A large silver door slides in place of the giant hole. I let go just as the door starts to slide in place.

I hurtle faster and faster towards the exit.

Then, my legs buckle onto the metal.

I float on my belly for a few seconds. I'm tryig to regain my bearings. I'm still here. For some reason, I'm still here. There's a fresh cut that isn't hurting yet, but I am still alive. The silver door caught me in time. It was probably protocol that the arena would at least stay floating in this sea of black. I would thank the Capitol, but then I think about what just occurred.

My medic is gone.

Now I can die from blood loss.

**Cyrene Polymer**

The club from the sponsors feels so much more comforting than the empty air. There has to be a way out of this place. I know there are two other ships nearby. Making ot over there is key to finding some food and water. I see a solid gold door. I push the button and it lets me in.

It is another white room. However, machines and red control panels are lining the walls. There is a rack welded onto the wall. On it is a rack holding six puffy, white suits with see-through helmets. I'm assuming those are spacesuits used for outside. Two keypads are plastered on each side of a giant silver door. Small glass rectangles peek through that door.

I can't see what is beyond that door, because a large black figure with a smaller girl is hunched in front of it. He has a map in one hand, and his clenched fist in another. The smaller girl stands behind him. I recognize him as Xavier. He was that guy that threatened everybody in the arena if they messed with his allies.

If that didn't freak me out, then describing my new plan to them will.

I raise my hands up as the door closes behind me. "Hold up. Let me say something."

"Why should we let you do that?"

"I'm trusting that you will listen to me," I say. I need to inject some confidence into my voice. This push needs to happen. "I have a very big idea, and it could benefit all of us if you would listen."

"Slide the club over if your so trusting of us."

I set the club down. With my foot, I punt it towards Xavier, who takes it in his hand. He examines the metal club. The light above bounces off of the weapon, letting the black sheen glow.

"What makes you believe you can be a good ally?" Xavier asks. Monette nods along.

"I know I don't seem like much," I say. There needs to be a small balance of humility here. Make them feel like they are important. "However, I like to think that I have a good head on my shoulders."

Monette tilts her head at me, wearing an inquisitive look like I'm an unfamiliar bug.

"With all due respect, that doesn't make much sense," Xavier says.

"How does it not make much sense?"

"Just tell us what your thinking."

I walk closer to them. The club is still in his hands. This is so dangerous, and my plan is wilder. I need to try this. The world needs to see us try this.

"This may sound crazy."

"I'm sure we've heard worse."

"Do you know anything about piloting a spaceship?" I ask.

"I'm no spaceman. What are you getting at? We won't let you be with us unless you prove yourself."

I take a deep breath. There is only one shot to see if this works. My plan involves these two. If they say no, I might as well give up now. If we can maintain control of transportation in this arena, though, everything can fall in order for my final push.

"There's a lot wrong with my plan, but I think it's the only one that can ensure survival. If it works, that is," I say.

"What is it?"

"I don't want to say it out loud. In case there's somebody by the door."

I'm lying. While I'm worried about being overheard, my main fear is the cameras pointed at us. No doubt the Capitol is listening in on us right now.

"Fine. You can whisper it to me. If you try anything on me," he waves my club towards me. "I won't hesitate to snap."

I go up to him. He leans down. I cup my hands around my mouth. My brain is screaming in nerves. It is hopping up and down, warning me to abort this idea. I can't do that. If I'm going to make a difference, it's going to be now.

I almost want a picture of his expression when I say my plan.

"I'm only saying this once," I say. "After this, it will only be mentioned as 'the plan.'"

"Go ahead," Xavier whispers.

Here goes nothing.

"We must escape to Earth."

* * *

**An amazing plan? Can Cyrene and Co. pull off the greatest escape in human history? Can they sneak under the Capitol's watchful eye? What about Cleo and Satine's injuries? How will that affect the games? Go ahead and speculate. Let me know what you think.**

**Eulogy Time (plays sad music)**

**14. Arlyne Hunter**

Arlyne was an enjoyable character to write. The problem I had was that when se would prove her worth, it would be far too late in the Games. Let's be honest. With no medical equipment, and no real wildlife around them YET, there just wasn' any real meri to have her around. I wasn't going to wait for Cleo to get a paper cut to show Arlyne's work. I figured a bit of an ironic twist where Cleo is injured without her was too much drama for me to pass up. I know people liked seeing them, but I just didn't see the real possibilities to it. Nice job, Arlyne.

**Please look at the sponsor opportunities in the sponsor chapter. Also, give me plenty of constructive criticism towards the content and characterizations.**

**Kill Count**

Aslovee Chesed (District 9)-3

Who knew Nine had it in them? And he killed his own District partner? Too bad Sirch had to go against a swordsman.

Slate Bedford (District 2)-2

If there was a Career stereotype, she must be it. Good riddance.

Glint Mugg (District 1)-1

He almost seems to nice to kill. Oh well.

Eva-Marie Green (District 7)-1

Even Johanna had to start somewhere.

Romeo Caliteo (District 4)-1

He touched the trident last before it pierced her, so it is technically his kill. Figures.

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	37. Day 2: Is it nighttime?

**Aslovee**** Chesed**

I don't care about knowing my parents. They have been DOA to me the moment I started to walk. You see, I've been out on the streets my whole life. I don't remember a single moment sleeping on a real bed that was mine. It's funny how memory works. I never met a moment where I realized I was some street kid. Hell, my last name is just one I made up. I just crossed into that belief at one point and never looked back. It's a peculiar feeling. A feeling of accepting fate, but not knowing when that fate was designated. That moment sticks to you and dances on a tightrope between consciousness and dreams.

I never had dreams. It was a "one eye open, one eye shut" mentality for me. I have to make sure no dumb fucker will sneak up on me. Good news is that none of those bone-headed cunts would dream of doing that to me. If I claim an alleyway for the night, those bitch babies would know better than to step on a twig near me, let alone stand around and twiddle their thumbs.

Not sure what I'm doing right now. Nothing has changed for me. I've scourged this arena left and right. Any rooms I've come across are blank; just little spots to hide or rest up. Maybe some crazy things have happened to those little tickets from the other Districts.

I like to think that I have a good instinct. In fact, I've skipped quite a few doors and have decided not to search a few halls. Lo and behold, I heard some other Tributes going down those halls usually followed by a few cannons.

All of these shitheads piss me off. Not because they are stupid assholes, but because none of them feel real. A a Career or two were watching me. I felt their eyes on me. Regardless, those pussies wouldn't know up from down. So I guess I'm stuck.

Hovering through these hallways is getting a little boring. I'm starting to hope that I do come across somebody.

I take that back. I know my limits. I don't want to jump right into battle with any of those ball busters anytime soon. If I were, I hope it's one of those bitches they call "Careers." No matter how much training they have, I have my instincts. I've had to survive everyday in my own personal Games. No time for these fuckers.

As I clutch my twin swords, I'm starting to feel a little more alert. I know a dam is going to burst any minute. Suddenly, a knocking noise is coming from one of the doors on the side of the hallway. I stop at the corner. Something is about to pop out from that sliding metal portal. I take my swords and prod myself forward using the blade to point towards the target.

All noise is blurred away. My vision narrows to this one spot. I feel my breath slow down. Unlike others, I slow my breath during tense increases my cool. Cocking my swords behind me, I'm able to flip them forward and spin them to attack. I prepare myself for battle in an instant. I needed it on the streets. More than ever now.

I get closer to the door.

The knocking plateaus in a constant thump.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I'm floating at a snail's pace.

Closer and closer.

Then, a bang shakes the door. I buck back, my swords at the ready.

Another bang.

Something's trying to get out.

I reach the door frame.

The metal breaks. It flies open in small sheets hitting the wall in front of it.

A middle-aged man roughly my height with ink-black hair calmly steps out of the room. $He exudes a confidence and assuredness that rivals my own. His back straight as an oak tree, he steps out and lifts himself off the ground.

His eyes are his most interesting feature. His entire eyeball is coated in pitch black. No pupil. No iris. It is an orb of darkness, and it flashes right at me. He smirks at me.

I need to end this now.

I spin my blades forward and thrust them towards his chest.

It plunges through him like a pebble in a pond.

The bitch baby grunts and flails onto his back. Moving backwards, I reach in towards the katana handles. My foot reaches up towards his chest. I push him down to the ground. My hands try to wrestle the swords out of his body. I'm getting pissed off more and more from this. I start to jimmy it out faster and faster. This guy is like quicksand to my trusty steel.

Pressed to the ground, the man coughs up more blood which floats in front of his face In a shaking bubble. His voice croaks open, and he starts to form guttural sounds. As he catches his breath, he trembles further before trying again.

"I thought you wanted to meet me Aslovee. Don't you want to know what happened to Mom?"

I blink.

He's gone.

No smoke. No remnants. My swords simply float an inch above the ground perfectly clean. My reflection bounces off the sword, letting me see my own slightly surprised face. I rarely get surprised, but I must say that, whoever that shit head was, he caught me off guard.

And who is mom? He's too old to be a brother of some sort.

Unless he's someone else.

No. It can't be. Even if it was, how would I know?

An illusion. Of course it was an illusion. The door previously destroyed is fine now. The thrill of the arena must have got to me.

How would the Capitol know who my dad was anyway. I'm sure there are plenty of people that resemble me anyway.

Fuck.

**Xavier Thomas**

Cyrene is spirited. I will give her that much.

However, me and Monette were happy sitting in this room behind the small ship that could take us to the next arena. With all the buttons and blinking screens, I feel lost in this open space.

Why can't I just go home? We weren't very lucky or fortunate. Most of the time, we scampered for any little thing we could find. My mother and father always tried what they could to feed us. It was tough at times. However, we had what we needed. Nothing was so complicated. I learned all I need to know at thirteen. I had no need for such troubles that the Capitol has. No worrying about clothes or gossip. It was us and nature. Only us and the sun blinking at us while falling below the horizon, as if it was wishing us a good night for more toil in the morning.

And I loved it.

"So let me get this straight," Cyrene says. "Monette is the mute one. And you can't read."

"I've learned a word. Here and there."

"The only word you can read is 'here' and 'there?'"

"That's not what I meant."

"I was kidding," she says. "The point is that we need to get on that ship and find supplies. After that, phase two will happen."

Monette nods.

"You really think we can get through this?" I ask.

"No. But it's our, emphasis on our, only shot."

Cyrene seems clever. However, I'm sure the Capitol has thought up of something like this. Then again, as long as we keep our intentions silent, we may surprise them. "What if they thought of it already?" I ask.

"They probably have. That being said, they couldn't have blanketed everywhere. It is, like I said, our only shot."

I must consider Cyrene. Even with her crazy plan, I think there is the smallest of chances it might work. It is unbelievable, but it can happen.

Even if it doesn't, I would rather die of my own accord than of somebody else's.

"When should we get inside the..."

"Airlock. And we should do it as soon as we figure out how to drive this ship. I'm assuming there has to be something in here to help us. Otherwise, we will do it ourselves."

Monette nods again. She gets up and scurries around. I'm assuming she is searching for some sort of instruction to help us.

"I'm right here with you. I know next to nothing about driving spaceships. It can't be impossible, though."

I look back towards Cyrene. "What makes you think that?"

"There wouldn't be any entertainment if everything was impossible. Want some dried food? A sponsor got it for me."

Why is the world so tough to figure out?

**Cadmium Ruse**

A few more ours of scavenging for the exit. More dead ends and gripping from the rest of the pack.

Everything about this bullshit is so stupid. This so called anti-Career pack is just a few wannabes who think they have what it takes. They don't know how hard it is to act like a typical Career in my situation. How to be cocky yet smart at the same time.

I'm use to acting. My colleagues, my parents, and everybody else see me as the normal full-of-himself teen that has nothing better to do than prepare for killing.

"See anything yet?" Eva-Marie says behind me.

I'm well in front of them taking point, or whatever the hell it's called. Far enough so I can't just reach behind and strangle her. Close enough to where they can still keep a grasp on the situation. I feel like they are marching me towards slaughter whenever we round a corner.

Everything about this bullshit is so stupid. This so called anti-Career pack. The wandering around. Nothing even matters anymore. I feel angry at the whole world. I want to kill everybody. My materialistic mom. My deadbeat dad. The stupid students at the training center. This trio behind me.

I'm tired of pretending. I want to be myself.

Being myself won't win me anything.

"How about this room?"

The guy from District Seven points at another metal door.

"What makes you think it will be different than the others?" Eva-Marie asks.

"Maybe we should let the experienced guy here open it," I say.

She rolls her eyes. "You've had practice opening the door?"

"I figured if I was going to risk my neck being in front, I can take the goods from the room first."

"Fine. Last one before we get the the airlock."

"Line up to the side," I sat while pointing at the side of the door.

"You're a tactician, too?" She asks.

"A what?"

"Forget it."

Stupid assholes are trying to make me look bad.

I get right next to the door frame. The others are lined up behind me. My hand hovers over the button.

"Ready?" Venus asks.

I press the button.

The metal slides open.

The lightning zooms right at the opposing wall.

Shards of electricity crack around the halls. Aaron shouts as he zooms away from the cannon of light waves. Eva-Marie and Venus do the same. They file around in a curved turn, bursting down the hallway. I follow behind them, the black polyester backpack hung on my shoulders.

The lightning is spreading through the hall faster and faster. It swirls on all sides of the path. Now, a tunnel of electricity wraps around us like a perilous cavern. The hair on my head stands at attention like Peacekeepers in formation. The other three scramble forward. We bounce on our tiptoes with the rubber running shoes laced on our feet. Even then, I feel the heat of the waves start to warm the insides of the padding.

The low hum zips down the walkway. It slows down with the lightning as it starts to reach the end of the long hallway. With my long strides, I catch up with the others. Aaron is in front of me with the girls flying ahead.

I get an idea as we reach the corner.

With the speed of our escape from the swirling rays, we must rebound off the wall at the end to move forward. What if I cut to the inside of Aaron and crash into him? Or I can shove him back towards the lightning.

I have a feeling Eva-Marie would kill me before we made it out of here. Her and Aaron are obviously close.

And with no other way through, I need this alliance to get food and water.

Eva-Marie and Venus stretch out their arms and push off the cold metal. They shred through the air around the corner. I'm not able to cut around on the inside; there is no purchase except for the electrified wall. I don't want to risk full impact with that.

Me and Aaron mimic the girls and bounce off. We barrel down the hallway.

The lightning follows us and keeps crossing over the walls. It leaves bolt patterns in its wake like a snake sneaking through sand. My face warms as one bolt crosses in front of me. I don't slow for even a second. The faster I move, the better.

Thank you, zero gravity. I guess no gravity means no slowing down. One push is all we need to zoom down the next hallway. Rays are chasing even harder. The rays kiss my heels as I leave a trail of connecting bolts on the floor.

The lightning passes me.

It spins faster around the slightly tilted hallway. It's a tunnel of electricity, bursting down towards the next corner.

Just a few more feet.

I feel a few sparks hit my clothed legs. It cuts through the fabric. A white hot sensation flows through my leg. It feels like a chimney poker stabbed its way into my nerves. My leg twitches in mid-air. The lightning is about to consume me.

I didn't even tell my District to go fuck themselves.

Just then, we round one more corner. The roaring him disappears like a ghost.

I turn around. The lightning leaves the area, combing back like a retreating army.

When I turn back to face the group, I see a gleam. A large gold door is shimmering in the light of the hallway. Another keypad is placed next to it. Big letters on it say "airlock" with a blinking coming from the sign. A small window is at my eye-level. Inside appears to have a few television monitors with some fancy buttons built into keyboards. More fancy Capitol equipment for this party.

"Well. Somebody is looking out for us today," Eva-Marie says.

"Now what?" I ask.

Venus and Aaron turn back to me. Eva-Marie stares at the keypad. "I thought you were a goner back there," she says while facing the door.

"Disappointed?" I ask.

She nods her head. "Let's just run over to th-."

If Venus hadn't wrapped her arms around Eva-Marie's middle and threw her aside, the trident would have run right through her face.

Damn it. Another opportunity missed.

A quick curse from a certain fifteen year old girl from District Four, and we turn to see the source of the attack.

Standing at roughly the same distance to the airlock, the Careers are lined up. Minus Slate.

And they are holding a mountain of weapons.

Venus slowly takes her bow off her shoulder. Eva-Marie reaches down for a throwing knife. I guess me and Aaron are going to have to fight off a few axes, maces, and knives with our hands. And a free trident.

I should be glad this group is still intact. Otherwise, we wouldn't stand a chance.

No doubt we barely have one now.

* * *

**Another epic fight brewing? I apologize for the shorter chapter. I really want to get to halftime, though. Jerome's master plan will be revealed at the Final 12. Why should you care? It's going to affect the Games, of course, As well as the victors role in the next SYOT.**

**At the moment, I will not post sponsor points because the next scene is going to happen very quickly. Sponsors probably couldn't get their stuff over during a battle.**

**Question: What will the plan be? Will Cryene and Co. escape? Who is your favorite tribute at the moment? Let me** **know**!


	38. Day 2: Before Midnight

Paige Parker

Why do I keep missing with those sucky tridents?

I normally do good with them at home.

After that miss, Glint hands me one of his throwing axes. Maybe not the best idea considering I'm 0 for 2 on throwing things.

Glint charges first at the stationary pack. He heaves on of his throwing axes and it heads straight for Cadmium. Figured he would be a target. Romeo gives him a shove forward, and Glint cuts through the cool air towards the stocky guy. Romeo skates behind him, thrusting his large black mace at the other boy who is guarding Eva-Marie. He pushes Seven down towards the ground and jukes to the side. As Romeo flies forward, the guy grabs him on his side and they twirl around like a tornado. The pair fly down the hallway further away before disappearing around the corner.

Romeo, being the smart person he is, whipped the mace back towards us. I grab it by the metal handle, brandishing it in front of me.

"Satine," I say. I plan on giving her the mace so we can all fight. I see Glint collide with Cadmium holding the throwing ace inches from his thick throat. Eva-Marie kicks back and bounces off the wall towards Glint. She wraps her arms around his neck and knees him in the back. Why isn't Satine taking the mace? We need to move!

It's because she isn't there.

Without her bodyguard, Romeo, in front if her, she decides to take off in the middle of the fight. All I see behind me is the large window showing the light dots sprinkled on the black space outside.

I groan. Now I have to head in front. Worse part is that it is three on two.

A quick clash with the ground, and I am off with Romeo's mace.

I sail over some of the space between us. Flinging mack my arm, I let out a shout when I heave the mace forward like a catapult. The thorny weapon screams like the train towards the Capitol. Eva-Marie's back is open for landing.

If only the direction wasn't changed.

Venus fires an arrow. The pointed object collides with the mace, and it is diverted just an inch to the left. It whizzes past her shoulder and barely misses Glint's head which is still in a headlock. Cadmium is trying to hold up the ridged blade over his throat, Glint pushing through the pain to get a kill.

I have to go over and stop Eva-Marie. Then, Glint can finish the job.

But I can't.

My limbs can't move. My heart is thumping even harder on my chest.

Ever since I saw Eva-Marie, I was scared of her. Not only is she from the same District, but she tries to be Johanna Mason.

Johanna Mason. The reason I can't sleep at night. The reason I have to put up a fence and pretend to be happy. If it wasn't for her, I could be happy. I wouldn't have to be fake, and I would still have Alex by me.

I can't fight her.

Revenge is flooding in me, but I'm petrified more than anything. I can't take her on. She is too much like her. I'm so afraid of her, and there's no way I can face my fear now.

Literally.

I'm so scared of facing Eva-Marie, that I completely forgot Venus hovering to the side.

Pluck.

The arrow plunges right into my upper right thigh.

I twirl around from the momentum of the impact. Along with my scream of pain.

Now I need to face my fear.

I heave myself forward right at Eva-Marie. With the three pushed right up each other, I can shove her and Glint forward. The axe will go right into Cadmium's neck.

"I shout again and collide with the fake Johanna's back.

She grunts as the scrum launches forward.

Mission accomplished.

I see a little blood spirt from Cadmium's neck followed by a few loud gargles. I take my arms and spin us around. The four of us are in a whiplash like a revolving door. Blood flings around us, emanating from Cadmium's throat. A small ring of red captures us in the tight spin from the life fluid.

A cannon fires. I let out a quick laugh in victory.

Venus is as good a shot as I imagined.

She fires off two more arrows.

One sinks into my injured leg.

The other lands right into the same wound as the first arrow.

A few more screams, and we hit the end of the hallway.

When we spin back around, Romeo and Johan-Eva-Marie's district partner are in our path. We ram into them.

After the jarring crash, the scrum splinters apart. Eva-Marie flies back and is caught by Venus. Glint and I catch onto the same pole, stopping us from floating further away.

Another scream.

This time, we whip our heads towards the source.

So that's where Satine is at.

**Aaron Artaga**

When we straighten ourselves from our locked embrace, I look right into Romeo's ice blue eyes.

I jab right at his right one.

Romeo sashays around and grips the edge of the large porthole. His eye is already puffing up among the raw skin around his eye.

We breathe like the fat judges in training. Gasping, I lets out a sky smile.

"Where's your slut? Shouldn't you be jumping her right now?"

Romeo's eyes widen to the size of the moon outside the window. He sneers while his fists clench. Knuckles turn ivory while he breathes harder.

"Satine is not a slut. She's the most amazing woman I've ever been with," he says. Then, he bucks back up to full height. "Don't talk about a girl that way. Especially mine. It's not like you deserve any girl, anyway."

Hold up. Now he is bringing Eva into the mix? "Don't compare Eva to your fuck buddy. She's greater than that."

"You don't deserve each other. You're nothing but dirt, Aaron. I bet she's being slaughtered right now," he says.

Then, he thrusts himself from the windowsill and punches me in the gut.

I grab his shoulders and we start to roll over Ina deadly somersault. We levitate towards the ceiling. Romeo hovers over me.

When his back hits the ceiling, I unleash a barrage of punches on his chest. He reaches out but misses my face by a mile. He must have terrible depth perception. Instead, he kicks my shin, making my body lower down for an instant. I swing my lower body and reach back towards Romeo's body. I wrap my arms around his body and ignore his flurry of missed punches.

This guy really can't hit.

I slam him back down towards the floor. His legs buckle and he kicks back to a straight posture. I reach down and uppercut his chin. Another grunt, and my fist shoots out at his stomach. He bats the arm away. I miss, and he finally gets a jab onto my throat.

I gasp for breath. Then, I lunge again. We keep trading hits. I get a left and a right onto his chest. He pulls an uppercut to my cheek. He favors his left, so I need to shut him down. With another attempt, I block Romeo's punch and twist his wrist. Sadly, not enough to break it before he barrel rolls around and kicks me on the side.

With a few more punches and kicks from us, I see three prongs floating past me. It is a golden trident. The one throw at Eva. I can end this with a quick stab.

Romeo grabs it underhand and spins it around. He jabs it towards me, and I lean towards my left.

Leaving my right shoulder open.

It feels like I'm being ripped apart from the inside. It cuts underneath my skin like a deer being slaughtered from the hand of a hunter's knife.

My hand reaches up and wrenches the trident out, surprising Romeo.

Just then, a gaggle of people crash rebound off the wall and wrap us into a heap. We separate from each other like a mine blowing shrapnel around a battlefield.

That was when we heard the scream.

Romeo speeds out of the room like the lightning streaks that chased us earlier. My shoulder is shaking from the frayed nerves, puncturing daggers of pain through my wracking body. Eva comes right towards me and shields me from the rest of the discombobulated bunch.

"Let's go," She shouts.

Venus, the closest towards the airlock hallway, nods. She twirls around and goes back around the corner down the hall.

Eva shoves me forwards. "Come on."

If Eva wasn't there, I would let myself float right there, bleeding out in the endless free-fall.

**Satine La'more**

I hold a hand to my gash. It isn't a very large cut. It doesn't hurt very much. I use my long legs to bolt through the hallways. With Romeo holding off the rest of the group, I can find a place to hide out before it's over.

Milking it for all it's worth is fun, though. Honestly, siphoning of Romeo is the greatest part of all of this. He carried me on his shoulders and let me eat the beef jerky in the backpack. He lives up to his name is what I'm getting at.

Poor Romeo. I really wish he realized just how great of an actress I am. Granted, I have enjoyed his presence. He is genuinely a knight in shining armor. His soft blonde hair and his deep blue eyes complement his gentle look, one of affection and concern.

He must actually be into me. No question about it.

Too bad I don't care.

Alright. I care a little bit. Being treated like a queen instead of a whore is a great change of pace. He is so careful around me. This sort of sensitivity is something I'm completely not used to. It makes me feel a little uneasy dealing with it. Hell if I'm going to show that. I'm going to give the Capitol a show. Speaking if shows, It was the best sex I've ever had. Romeo was so passionate, I almost felt sad fucking with his heart. And him literally.

Again, almost.

Let's just say that money is tough for me. I have to do some promiscuous things. It's a living, but I'm no less ashamed of it. That's the hand I was dealt with, so shall it be. Back at home, I worked hard to hide my reputation during the day. Nobody would be any the wiser. I personally never believed in Romeo's strange notions on love. He is a pure sap when it comes to love. I never bothered with it. In fact, me and Graham back at home promised each othr that we wouldn't marry if we were single at thirty.

My acting troupe might miss me. Seeing this side of me must be hard. Whatever gets me to Victor's village works for me.

When I finally come across an unlocked door, I whisper a quick prayer. Hopefully, nothing behind this door will kill me.

"I open it and whip around to face the hallway. Pressing the close button, I back away, letting out a quick sigh.

"When I turn around, my heart just about leaps out of my chest.

A guy with short, pin straight black hair and fair skin. He has wide shoulders and stands with his back straight like a Peacekeeper in formation. The skintight suit on him is straight and immaculate from any dirt or dust. He is shorter than me by about four inches or so. What really strikes me is the twin blades cocked backwards by his side. His blank stare seems to look right past me, like I'm a cloud giving shade from the sun. It is really unsettling, and I made a huge mistake going into this one room with this one guy.

It's the guy from District Nine.

Considering I just locked the door, running would probably give me two seconds before getting slashed in the back. I definitely can't fight him, so I'm at a loss. Romeo must be looking for me, though. He has to come and rescue me, right? There is no way he would let me slip through his fingers. I just have to wait until Romeo and the others save me.

Until then, I have to make do with what I got.

I really don't want to do this. I felt odd enough doing this with Romeo. Now, I have a complete stranger in front of me. Thinking about it in terms of life or death is freaking me out. A challenge? Yes. This is a challenge. If I can get to this one guy, I can get to anybody.

Better do what I do best. As much as I hate it, this could prove how powerful I actually am.

I put on a wide grin. Classic predatory smile. Check. "Oops. Looks like I locked us in by accident. Want to get out?"

I saunter forward towards him. His bored expression follows my body as it gets right up to him. I lean my head down just a little towards his ear. "You'll have to get through me. And there's only one way to do that," I whisper.

So there are more than one ways through me. I should have come up with something better, but he still does not move. Maybe I can get him hooked. After I get him worked up, I can buy time for Romeo to come in. Or I can snatch one of those swords and finish the job myself. Doubt it, but desperate times.

I step back and stare right into his black eyes. They are like a doll's eyes; no feeling or response to anything I'm doing comes from them. They are blank and cloudy, filmed over by his own hidden emotions. I need to focus. Only a matter of time before he slips up.

A quick wink, and I reach for the zipper behind me. "You know, while we're waiting for that silly battle to die down, we can have a little fun. It is the Games, after all."

In an instant, I unfurl my jumpsuit from my body. I'm nervous as ever, but everybody is watching. If I'm to get sponsors after this, I need to up my game.

Kicking it away from my feet, I put my hands on my hips and buck up towards him. "Ready?" I ask.

He is as still as a marble statue. Initiative falls on me, doesn't it?

I slowly take my hands and reach for his collar. From the corner of my eye, I see his hands still keeping a loose grip on the swords. He's not phased at all. If anything, I think he's just humoring me. With another quick tug, I pull off the top of his two-piece suit. His swords clatter to the floor while his gaze keeps itself pointed at me.

I yank it off of him. His chest looks amazing. He is ripped like he was carved from stone. Much better than Romeo. His rippling abs run down his slender frame.

I feel his shoulders and rub them before sliding down to my hands and knees. I really need to sell this part. Knowing his height, he's probably a case of big things in small packages.

I lick my lips. "Time for the main event."

Just as I reach his waistband, a foot jams itself into my mouth.

The guy's running shoe slams into my face. I roll over. Stars flood my vision, and blackness strokes the corners of my eyes. When I slump myself onto the wall behind me, blood is running down my nose. I'm pretty sure it's broken.

District Nine reaches down for his twin blades. He marches towards me, his swords sparkling in the sunlight outside that fills the otherwise dark room.

It can't be like this. Somebody needs to come. Romeo, come help me. Before it's too late.

I scream.

Both blades dive right into my chest like two forks poking at a piece of meat.

Fitting. That's all people ever thought of me.

I guess that's my fault, though.

* * *

**We are at halftime! Congratulations everybody. We are halfway there. That being said, we will slow down some for future events. Murders will be slower now, is what I am saying.**

**Eulogy Time (plays sad music)**

**13. Cadmium Ruse**

Being in a forced pack was tough enough. This was a situation where the characters weren't supposed to work together, and they didn't. However, teamwork and trust is a major theme in the Hunger Games, so I believe that it should be exploited in these situations. Sorry Cad. Hey, at least you dn't have to be made fun of by Eva-Marie, or be confused by large words.

**12. Satine La'more**

She died as she lived. That is all I will say.

**Kill Count**

Aslovee Chesed (District 9)-4

Who knew Nine had it in them? And he killed his own District partner? Too bad Sirch had to go against a swordsman. And now, Satine falls at his hands. Who knew he would be Number 1 so far?

Slate Bedford (District 2)-2

If there was a Career stereotype, she must be it. Good riddance.

Glint Mugg (District 1)-2

He almost seems to nice to kill. Oh well. Also, despite Paige's actions, Glint had the axe and killed Cadmium. There really should be an assist stat for the Games.

Eva-Marie Green (District 7)-1

Even Johanna had to start somewhere.

Romeo Caliteo (District 4)-1

He touched the trident last before it pierced her, so it is technically his kill. Figures.

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**Question: What is going to be in the next part of the arena? What would you like seeing? **

**Halftime Break! A special chapter will soon follow. Things will change. Let me know what you think!**


	39. Day 3: Closing Time At The Office

"Could I bother you for a minute?"

Jerome looked up from his manila folder of papers, his thin pencil limp in his small hands. He adjusted his glasses while leaning back in his chair. He had a very rough night. The extent of the Games kept draining away at his psyche like a hand squeezing lemon. Not only that, but he was growing impatient. He was always impatient. Whenever he tried to keep his cool, some other lightning bolt had to come in and destroy his entire itinerary.

What baffled him was just how miserable his time in the Capitol was. With the disorganization of post-rebellion Panem, he barely had any attention payed to his own meanderings, and the Games were the only thing he could possibly look at for the moment.

Staring up at his secretary, his eyes wandered to the plasma television hanging above the through doors. It was in split-screen mode. With the impromptu battle just settling in its dust, the clock was moments away from striking midnight on the long second day. He saw Xavier, Monette, and Cyrene standing in the launch room before the airlock and munching on stretched roast beef strands. Some sponsor got them even more food. They must have a lot of supporters.

Which causes a big problem.

Cyrene was pointing at some of the screens and buttons with technical jargon labeling them. Jerome was growing more and more suspicious of them. Cyrene shouldn't have the know-how to even fake that she is smart in that way. Then again, District Three's black market book gambit would lend a few hands to the hungry minds of Panem's youth. Assuming there was any, of course.

Aslovee had bolted away from the Careers. Romeo was now slumped over Satine's corpse. He was crying his eyeballs out, trembling and shaking from his drowning sorrow. Jerome felt sorry for the kid. He seemed so genuine and chivalrous to her even if it was the Games. He was starting to grow fearful as the Games moved on. Would they really make it towards the end? Ultimately, another romance needed to end before things got out of hand. One slip up could end everything. Especially if it was too soon for the plan to be enacted. Glint and Paige seemed innocuous enough. Paige had a soft underlying darkness beneath her. Glint was brash and confident in himself. Nothing that could hurt him or his cause.

Cleo was the sole lone wolf of the Games by now outside of Aslovee. She was bruised and battered. Still bleeding slightly, it seems that she pinched her artery off from causing any more damage. Regardless, she needed to find some goods or at least a weapon to protect herself.

Aslovee was another dangerous kid, but not in a bad way. He was cold and distant, but he seemed interesting, and shows he doesn't back down from crazy situations. Jerome actually believed for just an instant that Satine would blow him. And not even twenty-four hours after the Games fourth-ever sex scene. Truly a remarkably historical landmark in Games history.

Now for the anti-Careers. With one of the original Careers dead, Jerome needn't worry about how to split up that group yet. Now, with Aaron injured, Venus hyperventilating in the control room, and Eva-Marie shouting her head off and checking on Aaron's shoulder, they could splinter off at any second. Or they could build even more clout in these Games. Outside of Cyrene's ulterior motives to allying with Xavier and Monette, these two girls are the most troublesome. Mostly because they remind him too much of Johanna and Katniss. How? Eva-Marie's personal hero is Johanna. Venus is an archer from District Twelve. Granted, she is more confident and enthusiastic than the stoic Katniss, but the main similarity was too striking. Not to mention, they are two independent female teenagers.

Jerome realized his secretary was staring at him like he was a chalkboard. He gasped and looked back at her.

"No, but you will anyway," Jerome said, trying to regain his quip.

"President Lanarsus just commissioned planners for next years Games. He wants you to meet the surveyor."

Next year? They can't do that yet. They can't focus on what is happening in the future. If they did, he would be discovered. "Surveyor of what?"

"District 13."

Jerome was completely shocked. It can't be possible. How could they be looking at District Thirteen now? Even after the scientists quarentined the zone for radiation. Unless it is somebody that knows better than to listen to them.

This couldn't be somebody from there, could it?

"Send her in."

Secretary walks away. Jerome states at the screen over the door.

In walked in a female in her early thirties, though with the crisp strut of one in her mid or early twenties. Her dirty blonde hair that goes just above mid back, covers part of her lightly tanned skin. The most noticeable thing about her were her ice blue eyes, like a wolf sizing up prey.

"Hello. Helen Quinn." She said. She reaches out for a handshake. Jerome takes her hand in a limp grip.

"Jerome."

After a few seconds, Helen shakes her head. "You don't have a last name?" She asks.

"Nope."

"I'll leave you to it," Secretary said.

She walked away.

Helen blinks rapidly. "This room is really dusty. Could I take my contacts out? I have glasses in my purse."

"Sure."

She sliped her finger onto the eyeball and pulled off her contacts before laying it on the desk. Jerome hangs his mouth open when he sees the contact.

A Mockingjay symbol is tattooed on the inside.

Helen pulls out sleek glasses and picks up the contacts. She sets them inside the salty basin of the contact case. Throwing them in her purse, she adjusts pink leather strap on her shoulder.

"Can you see better now?" Jerome asks.

"Yup.

"How's District Thirteen?" This was it. She needed to give the signal.

"The same as it was before." She says.

That was it. All the confirmation Jerome needed was right there.

Jerome shoots up to his feet and slips around the desk. He grabbed Helen's hand making her skid on her high heels through the office into the open space beyond the glass walls. Passing the shocked states of the Games staff, he spotted the open-hinged bathroom door. He gave Helen one more heave. They shove themselves into the immaculate room with marble walls and white tile floor. The scent of lavender and clean linen swirled around the cold space around them.

Jerome kicks open a stall and pulls Helen into it. He locks it, then leaned in close to her.

"What the fuck?"

"Bathrooms aren't bugged," He says.

She stared at Jerome like he was a ghost. "What?"

"The bathrooms aren't bugged. No one can see or hear us. Now, I need you to tell me about why you're here."

"Hawthorne sent me."

Jerome stood in shock. Not only was this person intruding on his work space unannounced, but she was being ordered around by some self-entitled brat? "Gale Hawthorne. The head of the rebellion forces? Why the fuck is he giving order to us?"

"He's not. He suggested it, and our bosses thought it was a good idea."

Jerome slammed his hands on the wall next to him. The rattling made Helen jump. "Fine. Why are you here, though?"

"Plans have changed some."

"I figured. What is it?"

"The launch has been shifted back two weeks."

Jerome froze. "You realize I can't drag the Games out that long."

"I know. That's why we're distracting Lanarsus with next years Games. So he doesn't see what's going on."

"Do you even know what's going on?"

Helen pushes Jerome backwards. He hits the back of his leg on the tall toilet. "You know what? I don't know what's going on. I've been hearing about Project Chekov for three months. Something about space and other bullshit. Every time I ask the higher-ups, they shut me down. How do they expect me to work for them if I don't know what I'm doing? All I came here to do is to say that the launch, whatever the hell that is, has been pushed back."

Jerome gasped. In a blink of an eye, Helen reared up to Jerome. She pushed him onto the white wall and pressed her forearm on his neck. "And I need to know what Chekov is."

"Or you'll kill me?" Jerome said in a throaty voice.

Helen pulled away. Jerome sighed.

"Is anyone out there?"

Helen shook her head.

Jerome collected his thought. He knew there was no getting past Helen. Knowing her, she might as well kill him. It might be the end result of all of this anyway.

"Do you know how hard this is for me?" Jerome asked. Suddenly, he started to choke up. Jerome felt his cheeks grow warm. He rarely showed any grand displays of any emotion in public, but he couldn't help himself. He felt stinging tears hug his eyes. They threatened to spill over. "Do you really think that I'm okay with doing this?" He asks in a shaky voice. "I don't care if it is for the better. Sacrificing twenty-four kids was not on our agenda. From the very beginning, we wanted to shut it down. How sad is it that we can't even accomplish that? We have to run away like cowards."

Jerome sniffled some more. His crying started out in small shakes of his shoulders. The sadder he got, the more embarrassed he felt. Then, he wanted to cry even more. The stress of his job finally crushed down on him like a giant anvil. "Project Chekov is us running away. Why do you think the Games are in space? It's a test. When the Games are over, the arena will stay there. The launch is going to be used to make the arena larger. It will be a city in space. We are going to colonize the arena. Then, we're going to the moon."

Helen scoffed. "Are you all insane? Colonizing the moon is your answer?"

"We tried to stop the Capitol. It didn't work," Jerome said with more tears running down his face. "The only way we can do this is the equipment the Capitol used for these Games. Why do you think all those materials keep going to District Thirteen? Because I tell them to dump them there. Our tech wizards do their magic, and viola! Recycled materials fit for space flight. We can't attack the Capitol again. Look at what happened last year."

"Maybe it's because they didn't do enough. We weakened them, and now we need to attack."

Jerome smacked the stall again. "Do you know why the rebellion failed? Because the moment Katniss Everdeen decided to become a puppet for the Capitol, the rebellion was doomed to fail. She didn't do all those things to protect the Districts. She did all those things for the Capitol. Actually, you know what? She didn't do those things for anybody. She did it for herself. She was selfish, and she didn't give a fuck about any rebellion as long as she didn't get her head chopped off."

Jerome moved closer to Helen and put his hands on her shoulders. "She did all that stuff for herself. That makes us different. We aren't doing this for ourselves. We're doing this for the Districts. Actually, no. We are doing this for all of mankind. The history of humans will change forever in about two weeks, and when that Victor steps out f the arena, he or she will not only be the new face in a different kind of rebellion, but will personally usher in a new era of evolution."

"Just by moving to space."

"Absolutely. We are doing this for all the people in Panem, and the world. And guess what? It all starts with the end of the Games. Then...we kill Lanarsus. Instill our inside man on the Board as President, and we will be home free to live in a new reality that no person has ever seen before."

"So, what happens if the Capitol grows a brain cell? Then what?"

"Plan B."

Helen kept her head high while examining the crying man. Jerome wiped away the traces of tears and straightened his gray pinstripe suit. He did feel a little better from the whole situation. His shoulders were a little more moveable. Maybe with another person out there for him will help. Somebody that won't carelessly throw him out by himself to face the Capitol dogs.

"Thank you. Now, I must survey the rest of the nuclear wasteland." She said

"Don't tell anyone that you know. They'll come after you." Jerome said while pointing at her.

Helen nodded and exited the stall. Jerome stayed behind in the empty bathroom, lamenting his final days in the Capitol.

"Two more weeks," He said to himself. "Two more weeks."

* * *

**I was very tempted to name the project after a tribute. Project Artaga. Project Aslovee. Project Cleo. Project Caliteo. Project Venus. That would have been awesome. Which do you think sounds best?**

**More will be revealed as we move on. With this arching story going through the next SYOT, the victor will play a role in this plot as it stretches onward.**

**Question: I have sent the OC Creators a questionnaire. You're points are tentative on the submission of it. It will help all of us!**

**Also, tell me what you think of the plan. Is it great? So ridiculous it just might work? Flat out stupid? Not all information is available yet. Remember.**

**Odds of Victory**

Glint Mugg-8/2

Cyrene Polymer-32/1

Paige Parker-22/1

Romeo Caliteo-25/2

Cleo Ellis-40/1

Monette Zacharias-85/1

Xavier Thomas-38/1

Aslovee Chesed-12/2

Eva-Marie Green-17/1

Aaron Artaga-26/1

Venus Whitmore-18/1

**Kill Count**

Aslovee Chesed (District 9)-4

Who knew Nine had it in them? And he killed his own District partner? Too bad Sirch had to go against a swordsman. And now, Satine falls at his hands. He is number one in kills now! Amazing!

Slate Bedford (District 2)-2

If there was a Career stereotype, she must be it. Good riddance.

Glint Mugg (District 1)-2

He almost seems to nice to kill. Oh well. Also, despite Paige's actions, Glint had the axe and killed Cadmium. There really should be an assist stat for the Games.

Eva-Marie Green (District 7)-1

Even Johanna had to start somewhere.

Romeo Caliteo (District 4)-1

He touched the trident last before it pierced her, so it is technically his kill. Figures.

**The Sponsors Points Board**

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Jedimindtricks-55 points


	40. Day 3: Breaking Barriers

**Cleo Ellis**

By no means is this fun in the sun.

The harsh light rays beam through the bay windows. The sun is hiding behind the blue ball called Earth. The different land masses stay locked in the crust, looking up at me and my misery.

Land masses, huh?

I never thought about the different areas of the world before this. I guess nobody wanted me to know that something else is out there. When I dreamed about the other places out there, it was always the greasy glamour of the Capitol or the shining luster of District One. I never thought about District Four's ocean and what stretched beyond it.

I'd like to say this tells me how small I am, but I already knew that. The Capitol never failed to use an opportunity to make me realize how meaningless one teenager's life can be.

Dammit. My shoulder is stinging like a bunch of bees stabbing at it. The torn fabric barely covers the wound which is harder to carry with me than when I first got it.

Can you even get infections in space? I'm sure the guys down there will figure out a way.

All I can do is stagger down this maze of halls, trying to find something to grasp onto. A sign of hope that I can survive without more blood getting out. I've been feeling lightheaded

I hate to wax poetic about such stupid topics, especially when my life is on the line. I can't help myself. If I'm going to die soon, I want to be at peace.

By no means am I going to rush that point. I will do my best to stay afloat.

Afloat. That reminds me of this old book called "Old Man And The Sea."

In it, it's about this old guy that gets dragged out to sea by this giant fish. We seem him get tired and think about all the things in his life. He wonders how affected he is from his situation, and he thinks about whether it is worth it.

I could go for fish right now. I've never really had any until I made it to the Capitol. Ambrosi told me to not eat any because it was bad for my skin and stomach or something. He ate chocolate, though. That's bad for your complexion.

Why do I feel so lonely? Even when I was alone, it wasn't this bad.

Is it because Arlene died. Probably.

I knew she would die. I was prepared to off her myself if need be. I hate that she never fixed me up like she promised. For once, I thought I knew somebody that could actually get behind me and help out.

Now I'm floating in this metal spiderweb, waiting on the grand finale of my life.

If it ever comes.

No way am I going to give up like this. If some comes right at me, I'll fight tooth and nail until the only part of me that I can still move are my eyelids.

I can find my way out of here, get food, and slap a bandage on this shoulder.

I look down at my hands. Blood clings to them like a sick sponge.

This is aimless. Nowhere to go. I'm feeling even more lightheaded.

If I don't find something soon, this will be it.

I turn onto my side, floating in mid-air and looking out the window.

Earth looks beautiful from here. There is all of this bullshit that comes from it. The Games, the rebellion, Katniss, the Peacekeepers raiding my home, and just my day-to-day activities that mean nothing.

How much worth does one human being have in this world? Or in this universe. We're just a bunch of little twigs on this giant tree. We could be snapped off any second, and it's happening by ourselves. This is not a sermon. This is fact.

But I mean something to others. My parents still love me. I have people at home unlike others.

**Monette Zacharias**

Cyrene scours the area for any hints toward her big plan. Xavier is looking through Cyrene's small backpack. He pulls out some more scrumptious roast beef and purified water with iodine.

I turn to Cyrene. There has to be a way to get her attention. I look at Xavier who points at her. With a quick nod, I stomp my feet on the ground.

A small thud wafts its way towards her. She turns around.

"Do you need something?" She asks.

I can't even bother with sign language. For as smart Cyrene is, I doubt she would understand. I point to the backpack.

"What about it?"

I shrug.

Cyrene looks at me for a split second. Like a match being lit, her face brightens in understanding. "How I got it? I was able to grab it from the Cornucopia. One of the Careers shunted it off to the side."

"What about the stuff?" Xavier asks.

Cyrene leans on the wall next to the spacesuit rack. "I guess someone's looking out for me."

I make a question mark sign in the air with my finger.

"What was that?" She asks.

I raise my palms up.

"Right," she nods. "I don't know why. Why is there gravity in some places and not others? It's just something I can't take for granted right now."

"How can you plan ahead so easily? Don't you know what's going on here?" Xavier asks.

Cyrene stops and looks at Xavier, a small frown on her face. "Do you see the windows all around this place? Don't you notice all of the things going on down there? All of the lives being wasted away? And for what? Just because some people want money or boats or the newest thing in those fashion magazines. There's more to life than a little bit of money. Why don't people realize that? People like us," she waves her finger in a circle. "We are special. All of us. Down there, we're running over the same old ground and doing the same old things. Don't you want that to be different?"

At this, Cyrene's eyes begin to redden. "You want to know why I am working so hard? I want there to be more in that little place below us. It's stupid, talking about this now. But you want to know. So there it is. What if there was more to be happy about other than getting that newest dress? How about family or art or existing? Isn't existing the most rewarding thing to do? So here we are. Now, we have to earn that reward."

Cyrene sniffles and wipes her eyes. It wasn't an outburst. It was much too controlled. It seemed like it wasn't even directed at us. The Capitol? Panem? But how could she even think about getting a message out to others besides sponsors?

As she examined us sitting on the tile floor, a buzzing comes from the other side. We turn to see a red light blinking along with the rhythm of the sound. It is over a massive metal sliding door built into the wall.

Cyrene scurries towards the shaft. When me and Xavier first got in here, the slide wouldn't budge. We claw our ways towards it as Cyrene beats us to the opening. She stops in front of it. With a flourish of her small wrists, she lifts up on the silver handle, and the door lifts up.

Inside is one of those spacesuits hanging up on the rack. An extra one, I guess. The glass helmet is attached to the top covering the space between the puffy white suit and the headspace.

It is the object underneath that makes Cyrene take a step back.

Xavier furrows his brow. He reaches over towards it and, like a snake catching a mouse, snatches the thick book from the shaft.

Xavier holds the large paperback in front of him. "What's wrong with this?" He asks.

Cyrene snags it from his large black hands. She starts to giggle. "Nothing. Nothing is wrong at all. Don't you know what this is?"

I wasn't able to get a clear look at it. Xavier shakes his head. Cyrene must have forgotten that Xavier couldn't read, so she grimaces at her mistake.

"Sorry. Oh, Monette hasn't seen it yet," Cyrene says with a smile spreading ear-to-ear. "Monette, ready to go through space?"

When she hands me the purple book, i run my fingers down the black lettering. It has a certain warmth to it, like when me and Caz used to play catch with my boomerang.

Who knew sponsors could send us a spaceship driving manual?

"We leave right now." Cyrene says. "You two get your things together. I'll start putting in all the spacesuits. We may need extras. I don't know what's on the other ships, so we need to be careful." She turns to the spacesuit in the tube and wrestles it down. Crossing the floor, she makes it to the door between us and the spaceship holding room. With the push of a button, the doors wrench open, letting out a small continuous groan until stopping.

The back of the milk-white spaceship has a small hatch that separates it from the outside. A rectangular window is over the black handle that opens the spaceship. It appears to be dark inside with numerous buttons and panels lined around the area we will be sitting in. The entire ship is a large ball with a giant window screen in front of it and three seat planted on the right side and to the back of the ship.

That's all I can see when Cyrene runs into it.

* * *

Soon, I am seated on the side row of grey chairs. My head is underneath a wall tacked with buttons and signals that aren't lit. Cyrene is sitting in the front of the area with Xavier next to her. All of us are strapped into our pressurized space suits. At the very front is the large glass screen looking at the closed door that will allow us into space.

Cyrene and Xavier are buckled into the two seats at the front. There is a dead control panel in front of them. A black steering wheel is by Cyrene's side. Knobs and buttons invade Xavier's area.

"Okay," Cyrene says. She flips through the book. The swashing of paper from the manual cuts through the silent buzzing in my ears. "Here we go. First, we have to switch on electrical power. Which is...Monette, do you see a 'main power' lever back there."

I scan the area around me. Sure enough, between the two front seats and the row on the wall I'm on, a yellow striped lever is down.

Cyrene turns around. I nod.

"Flip it on."

When I do so, the inside comes to life with electronic hums. Buttons burst into light and blink like fireflies in a summer field. Cyrene and Xavier's faces glow in the neon gaze of the radars and meters encased in the control panel up front. The constant white noise from the electric currents makes my hair stand up. It leaves me with an odd feeling from the amount of power in such a small space. I almost feel claustrophobic.

Cyrene keeps tracing her finger in the leaves of paper. "Now, we have to turn on navigational equipment and set destination." She hovers her finger over an area before mashing a button. "Setting it to the location. We decided on Bay C, right?"

"Yup," Xavier says.

A few more beeps from the panel, and the radar on the screen turns purple.

"Lights are on in the front. Switching on oxygen."

Heaves of air funnel through the small vents around us.

"Okay, okay. So, all we have to do is flip on the fuels lines. Got that, Xavier?"

"I hate to disappoint, but I can't exactly find that."

Cyrene chuckles halfheartedly. "Sorry. I keep forgetting about that. It's two red levers right next to each other. Pull them all the way up."

Xavier feels his way around the control panel. He pauses in movement. Then I see his arms raise slightly from the push on the levers.

"And we open up these doors."

With another push of the button, the doors in front of us lurch aside. The scene wipes in from the retreating doors. Beyond Cyrene and Xavier's head, I see the black cover of space carrying the hot stars far away. The vacuum seems peaceful, even inviting as we sit still in our small pod.

In the front, Cyrene opens up a small glass case on the panel, revealing a crimson button shining in the bright lights.

"Main engine start."

She pushes the button.

I feel the rocking of the small space ship as it roars to life. It sounds like a thousand quail shouting for each other inside the spring wind.

Weird way to describe it? Maybe it's because I like to think of things back home to calm me down.

The attacking rumble segues into a gentle hum while the power surges through the small space. The tension surges through my limp bones like a static shock from a doorknob. My teeth clash with each other slightly. The sensation feels a little soothing, almost like the massage setting I found in the Capitol showers.

However, the ship is still tilting side-to-side like a boat in rough waters.

"Time to fly, guys." Cyrene says.

She pushes forward on the moving steering wheel.

We lurch forward and almost topple off our seats.

"Seatbelts, everybody. Forgot about that."

**Eva-Marie Green**

"You better be glad he had that kit."

Aaron lets out another hiss as I push the alcohol-laden cloth into his bloody shoulder.

After the big fight, the Careers appeared to gravitate towards Romeo. He was having a massive panic attack from the death of his girlfriend. I felt bad seeing him crying over Satine's body. No time for pity, though. Aslovee bursted out of the room. Once he saw the six of us in the hallway, he bolted away from us. We took advantage and holed ourselves up in the airlock room.

Once we locked ourselves in, we collapsed onto the ground. Cadmium's body was surprisingly gone by then. Whether the Capitol had it, or it had simply floated off somewhere, I don't know. It saved the fear of having to deal with him. It's a real shame. I tried to be really forceful with him because we needed him on a tight leash. I know he was probably disgruntled at us, and I hate that he got the wrong impression. Regardless, he did his job well, and he will be missed.

Venus started to hyperventilate while she crouched down in front of a large television screen showing the outside view of space. Aaron shouted again.

I felt like the only sane person in the world. Everything made me feel so small. I'm not used to feeling this weak in the face of trouble. It's a boiling feeling in my stomach that makes me want to throw up all of that miserable Capitol food.

After a few seconds of gaining my bearings, I scrummage through the backpack. Pulling out the cube with a red cross, I unclasp the flaps on the case. A transparent syringe rests on the side compartment of the inside. A bottle that is labeled as a painkiller. The cap screws off like a water bottle, and I dip the syringe into the dark liquid. The syringe drains up the liquid. With a quick once-over, lift up Aaron's sleeve up to his collar. Three small craters are bubbling with small packets of blood. The holes don't run to far in, barely piercing bone.

"Remember when you feel on those nails that one time?"

Aaron gasps. "I was ten."

"Just imagine it's the same thing."

Once I shoot Aaron with the painkillers, I turn towards the blonde haired and blue eyed girl.

Venus clutches her bow snug to her chest. Her breathing is still coming in quick shards. She is staring at the floor, as if it had the answer to an important question on a test. She is trying to hide away from what we saw. I want to do the same thing.

I stumble over to her and sit down, leaning my head on the cool wall. I've never been good at calming people down. I'm going isane myself in this situation. Our Career is dead, my best friend is knocked out, and the only other able-bodied person is trying like hell to calm down.

We need to refocus and get back on track. I'm worried the Capitol won't take much more inaction. Even if the fight was just a little bit ago.

I place a hand on Venus's shoulder. She flinches and whips her body towards me. Her eyes are wide and tinged with a trace of red.

"Do you ever think of when your younger?"

Venus slows her breathing down. I have no idea where I am going with this, but I might as well be helpful.

"I have two sisters. One is my twin, and the other is twelve. Dylan, the younger one, decided to go into this small opening between the spindles on the stairs. When I heard her screaming from the opening, I was more scare than anything in the world. Me and Edeth ran to our dad. He came over and looked down at Dylan. Then, he just shook his head like we had dropped a cup of tea. With a slab of butter and a quick tug, she was out. Just like that."

Venus fills the silence with a soft gaze.

"Remember how I said I was jealous of you? I'm jealous of my dad right now. He's always able to keep his cool in these situations, and he barely batted his eye when that happened. One thing that is good for is that I can use it during tough situations. What I mean is that I try to think that I felt as scared during that fight as I did when she was stuck in the stairs. Its probably stupid, but I almost feel like those two events are connected. If I can compare getting stuck in stairs to dying, I can get over it better. If I'm equally afraid of both, then neither of them seem that bad.

We sit, paused for minuscule seconds in this floating cage of time. I don't bother wondering if I said the right words. I tried my best to help. So what if I did a bad job? We will still keep going. I can still win if I keep my cool, regardless if Venus and Aaron can help it. Why should I care if she feels better or not?

Her smile makes me feel a whole lot better, though.

Venus giggles and crosses her legs. "I get what you're saying. It's funny. I have twins, too. Actually, they're not my twins. They're my sisters who happen to be twins. Five years old. I doubt they know what's going on right now, but they're really fun and smart. They'll be great people one day."

I look up at the ceiling. "You know how cheesy that sounds? Even if they do see this?"

"It doesn't matter to me. Who cares about being cheesy?"

"Good point."

"What's District Seven like?"

I sigh. "It's like any other place. Rich are very rich, and poor are very poor. Me and Aaron are lucky. Hell, our parents are at least five percent of the training center's funding."

"You guys opened up a training center?"

I laugh. "It's not as glamorous as it sounds. I'm surprised you guys havn't opened one, either."

"In District Twelve. Why are you surprised?

"C'mon Venus. You know why."

"I just don't want to be a fish in a bowl, is all. For as much as I love home, things aren't all that great right now. It makes me sad, because I don't think anything can help us for now."

We sit in silence for about a minute. This time, it feels a lot more organic. My back actually ecreases in tensions, and the nerves release it's stranglehold on my spine.

"Thanks. I guess I'm a little more relieved," Venus says.

"That we got through the battle?"

"That you called me Venus."

I look back at her. "What?"

"You never called me by my name until now. It was always 'Twelve.'"

I stare at her. Just then, she pulls out a piece of bread and rips it in half.

"Cad hid it in the backpack. I guess he liked us less than I thought. You can have this half."

I look down at the bread she pushed towards me. I shake my head.

"That's the small side, asshole."

We laugh together.

For a few minutes waiting for Aaron's meds to cycle through, I feel free, like I can leap out of this spacecraft and sleep on the clouds.

* * *

**Who wants to go into space next chapter? Either that, or we can focus on Romeo's everlasting despair. Eh, we will most likely do both.**

**Question: What is the premise to the first episode of Boku No Pico?**

**Leave any comments, concerns, insults, or injuries. It is imperative!**


	41. Day 3: Noon or Afternoon

I enter the airlock. A red light fills the room, hinting at the dread and horror to come. I stay close to the railing on the left side of the hatch. With the air decompressed, I hear the hiss of the oxygen tank sneak into my ears. Aaron adjusts himself behind me, preparing himself for the entrance into the dark oblivion. The airlock itself has blank, sleek walls with the giant bay doors hissing from hydraulic power.

On the radio, I hear Venus, who is parked behind all of us. The graveling static commences as we synchronize our radio signals.

"I'm going to open the hatch. Remember, we have to hook the tether to this ship first. Then we can all space walk when the other one comes."

"If anybody tries anything funny, I won't hesitate to throw you off the loop." She says.

"Woman, you think I would risk flying out into space to threaten you," I ask.

I can just picture Eva rolling her eyes. "Any last words, Aaron?"

"I don't know how the vacuum of space works, so hold on to the rail before we scale the outside of the ship."

"Very insightful, Mister Artaga."

"I aim to please."

"Send us out, Venus."

Venus presses the open button.

Before me is a gorgeous sight. The black canvas rolls out in front of me as the bay doors open. Crimson and aqua stars twinkle away like sparks from a fire. White comet, or asteroid, trails puncture through the void. Then, they vanish back into the abyss, melding with the colors of the backdrop. The moon hangs on the corner of my vision. It glistens from the eternal sunbath received every day to light the night sky. We continue to sail around the Globe. The clouds hugging Earth crawl over the surface as we run past it on our speeding ship.

Good luck guys," Venus says.

Eva breathes while looking out at the unravelling picture. Letting out the warm air, she clutches a pipe on the outside of the ship and hoists her self over the edge. I file behind her, lifting myself up to hover next to the curved side of the ship.

I'm a little rattled being out in space.

So many strange thoughts come to me. So many weird questions come to me. Some of significance, and others toe the edge of ridiculousness.

I lean over towards the nothingness beside me. With my head tilted, I spy the contorting space tether. It stands in place like the stars behind us.

The three of us gingerly climb over the side towards the tether. Our boots come together and part from each other one at a time, like we are walking on the windowsills of a tall building.

It's one of the most surreal feelings to the ears. I can only hear my own breath. Eva and Venus's also come into contact. From them, I think I can differentiate their breathing.

"Eva, are you nervous right now?" I ask.

"Why would you ask that?" She returns the question.

"You're breathing really hard." Venus answers.

Eve looks back at the two of us. Her helmet has a small tinge of fog that leaves after every breath. "We're here. Not to far, was it?"

Right. Eva is never nervous. "Now what we need to do is clip one end onto the ship."

Eva pushes off the edge towards the highest end of the tether. "Hold onto the other end so I don't float off."

She slowly ascends towards the end. I walk my way towards the lower end and grasp onto it. Eva reaches the tall end and clings to it.

With the speed of her body towards the tether, I was not prepared for when she tugged it in anxiety.

I lurch forward with her momentum carrying me up.

Within inches of leaving the edge, Venus plants me back down by my shoulders.

Eva shuffles her way down the line like a sloth on a tree branch. When she makes it back down with the other end, I turn her around. Her face is still laced with shock from the heart-stopping moment. It was hardly two seconds, but I already feel deflated.

Eva huffs softly. "Thanks."

I jab my thumb back. "Thank Venus."

Venus clears her throat. "Actually, I was going to say before you ran off that I had an idea."

I turn around. Eva pokes her head next to mine, helmets almost clashing.

"Why didn't we just grab the closest end of the rope and tug on it. I'm sure the other side would have come down."

Stupidity and survival are mortal enemies. I guess.

With the tether in tow, we make it up to the very top of the now flat spaceship. What is flat, anyway? In assuming the flat where the floor and ceiling are at 180 degrees. Maybe we are on the sides, and the other part is the actual roof.

Point is, we are sitting on the top side of the ship and waiting for the other one to come along. We see it in the distance. With such a slow pace, hooking onto it shouldn't be a problem, minus a few seconds of free-floating in space. Someone has to connect the free end to the other side after all.

The three of us have our legs dangling over the edge. It's like this one picture I saw where the construction workers are on one of the walkways eating lunch. Instead of a skyline to look at, though, we have the darkness of space in a battle with the light glowing from Earth and a smaller version of this ship coming at us with a snail's pace.

"This reminds me of those times we sat for the bus. The bus stop before us was only about two blocks away, so we saw those kids get in before us."

Eva and Venus look at me. I gaze at the other part of the arena in the distance. "It was funny 'cause they could have just out a stop in the middle, but we got two stops instead."

"The waiting was the worst part," Eva says. "It's always been a pet peeve if mine. Waiting for something when it's right there. That's why Sundays were always tough. That's when the training center closed down."

"Things closed on Sunday for you, too?" Venus asked.

"You see, Venus. We're all alike. Everybody closes on Sunday. Do you know why?"

Venus looks up towards the surrounding night. "I never thought about it. To be honest, a lot of businesses stay open everyday. They can't afford to stay closed. At least, the ones by the Seam did. In my part of the District, things were different. I'm not acting like I'm rich, but it makes me sad thinking of all those people in my own home that are starving. Doesn't that make you feel weird?"

"I can't say I've thought of that, either," I say. "Poverty is everywhere. It's like breathing almost. The more oxygen you try to hold in, the harder the carbon dioxide is when you blow it out."

Eva let's out a giggle. "Did I give you too much of that vaccine? Because that made no sense."

We sit in silence for a few more minutes. Nothing changes except for the ever-increasing one-third of the arena.

"That's why I want to win so badly," Venus whispers to herself.

Me and Eva turn towards her. "Come again?" I ask.

Venus looks at us. "That's why I want to win. My entire life, my home has been looked down upon. Most people would rather get executed than get sent to the Seam. I've had an amazing life, and others need that chance too. I love Twelve. A few years ago, I thought things were going to change. We would get the spoils of the victor is what they all said. I was so happy when we won. Then, everything went downhill."

"That's not anyone's fault, Venus. Don't feel like you owe anybody anything. If you feel like you have to give the world money, it'll be turned into kindle for fire. You see, when I win, I'll be charitable. That way, I'll have already given, so I won't feel guilty when somebody else comes along and asks for something. " Eva says.

"Change won't happen if it's forced. If people want to change, it will happen no matter what." I say.

Venus contemplates for a few seconds. "It's just that...I wanted things to change."

There's nothing I can say. It's another silence between us and the real world. We sit, letting the comet trails and floating sky race through our vision.

Eva pats her on the shoulder. "I don't know either. Why things close on Sunday, that is."

* * *

**Romeo Caliteo**

My brain is scratching its fingernails on the inside of my head. My eyeballs are burning in their sockets, and my arms and legs are numb with assumed bruised and cuts.

It feels like a dream.

I feel a shockwave burn through me the moment my eyes hit the glare from the shimmering light sneaking through the window.

Satine.

All of that blood.

I gasp. With a groan, my body flickers up to full height. My knees buckle a little bit, and I look down at myself.

It wasn't a dream.

Her blood is dry, splattered on my dark blue shirt.

I nearly rip it off in my haste from the shock of the crimson.

I back up onto the window. The freezing glass sends shivers through my nerves. My vocal cords have minds of their own. The moment my mouth opens, the screaming comes out of my mouth. Singing tears form in the corners of my eyes.

The veins inside my arms jut out. Sweat starts to run down my blonde hair to my face. The walls around me in this bare room feel tighter, closer. They seem as if they are mocking my torment. Just a matter of time before they close in on me and end my nightmare.

I didn't even love my own mother. She was the only other girl in my life.

Shouldn't I have figured this out already? I knew one of us would go, but She would be the one to come out. I couldn't imagine life without Satine. I have to life through it. The pain. The numbness. The sadness. The anger.

Wait. Anger?

Yeah, I'm starting to feel it. My screaming ceases as my stare locks onto the stained shirt on the slick ivory floor.

Why is this anger creeping up on me? I'm torn like a piece of paper from Satine and her gorgeous eyes never opening again, but my back feels a little tighter now. My breathing is still heavy, but it is more controlled. The tears are getting slower. I feel more fidgety and restless. Fists ball up besides me into clenched rage.

I feel more rage in me than ever. I surprise myself, though. I don't feel mad at that District Nine guy. Her killer should be my first priority, but I don't feel that way anymore. When I found her, she was stripped down to almost nothing. A piece of that other guy's clothing was on the floor right beside her body. I put two and two together. She was trying to save her skin. By whoring herself out. What if she had survived? How would she have explained that to me?

She wouldn't have. She would have split right then.

I gasp out.

I've been played for the millionth time.

My entire life, girls in my District used me as a good time at night and threw me out of the house like I was a cockroach. I thought I found a girl I could be with over and over again. Every time, I woke up in a sheen of sweat, turned over, and she was already getting my things together.

Over and over. Mistreated like I was a chew toy.

It started with my mom. Doesn't it always start with her. She didn't care about me. She had sex with my own brother. By association, I'm a freak. Now, I'm a gullible stupid pretty boy that girls would ride on, and that would be that. There isn't a single girl that has ever cared about me.

Now, my only hope at any semblance of love is gone.

And she didn't even care.

It's the final act of betrayal.

I won't take this anymore. There is no such thing as love. All I've ever come across is envy for my looks, lust for my looks, and nothing more than a sex toy. Satine knew it. My own mom knew it. Everybody in Panem knows it.

Every single woman.

I haven't met a single good woman in my entire life.

The floodgates open. Anger is my fuel. Anger for every single woman that has ever used me. Every single person who has ever only cared about my looks and nothing else.

I bet they're even staring and drooling at me right now.

That's it. I need to get my revenge. For every person that has ever been misused this way. It's time for me to attack. I need to wipe out every one of these sluts in this arena. It's time they get payback. I'll make them suffer like I have.

As I put my shirt back on, I exit the room and lift up in the air. It looks like Glint and that pretentious whore, Paige, left me.

Time to show the world who I am.

And it looks like that red haired girl from District Seven is my first target.

She is almost passed right next to my door. Lucky for me.

She looks up. Her eyes wide open and her mouth agape.

I immediately swing my foot up and connect with her jaw.

A tooth flies out of her mouth. With no weapons, I guess I'll have to do this the old-fashioned way.

Oh, almost forgot my mace spinning behind me.

I take her by the neck and bang her onto the wall. My fists get tighter, and she starts to kick at me. I lean in further, squeaks of terror coming from her mouth.

"Please. I need water." She says.

"Stupid bitch. You think you can beg your way out of this?" I ask in a mirthless tone. "You're all the same. Begging and finageling your way through stuff. Now, you have a real man here, and you can't do anything about it."

Just then, I crush my lips onto hers. She tries to move her head away, but I keep at it. For a few more seconds, the air seems to stop coming from her throat. I let go. She keels over, crying softly from her pain.

I take the mace and raise it over my head. She reaches her hand out and waves it.

"No." She shouts.

My mace plunges into the top of her head.

Another cannon.

I let her body float in front of my for a few seconds. Suddenly, I'm aware of all eyes on me. I look up at the ceiling.

"You see this," I point at Seven's corpse. "This is what you have to do to be a real man."

I feel a leap of joy in my heart.

It is the scariest thing I have ever felt, but I don't care anymore. I don't care about the Games or winning. I have a real mission now, and the whole world will know about it.

It's time I took control.

* * *

**Sorry for not having three POVs. As less people come in, more time will be dedicated to the current tributes. It's a perk of being in the final twelve.**

**Question: What arena would be interesting for the next Games. Don't worry, I already have an idea. I want to see what dynamis you all like, though. Again, I must also ask to leave nice, constructive reviews. If I have messed up on your ponts, le me know, and I will correct it. **

**Eulogy Time (plays sad music)**

**11. Cleo Ellis**

Sorry, Cleo. But you had no chance just moseying around. With few supplies around to begin with, there just wasn't much to do except wait things out. And a maniacal Tribute would be the thing to do her in. She was a good character that I could be creative with. Good for her.

**Kill Count**

Aslovee Chesed (District 9)-4

Who knew Nine had it in them? And he killed his own District partner? Too bad Sirch had to go against a swordsman. And I wonder why he was so slow on killing in that last situation.

Slate Bedford (District 2)-2

If there was a Career stereotype, she must be it. Good riddance.

Glint Mugg (District 1)-2

He almost seems to nice to kill. Oh well. A Career killing another Career. That's new. Maybe.

Eva-Marie Green (District 7)-1

Even Johanna had to start somewhere.

Romeo Caliteo (District 4)-2

He touched the trident last before it pierced her, so it is technically his kill. Figures. Hope he doesn't get too maniacal, though.

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	42. Day 3: Business

**Cyrene Polymer**

"How long do you think Panem has been under Marshall law for?"

Xavier turns in his thick spacesuit. With a piece of beef jerky in his mouth, he raises an eyebrow.

"What's that?"

"Marshall law. Back at home, it was a lot easier to get information than you think. Books were my best friends. Marshall law is when the military controls all the laws and procedings. Have you ever noticed how the Peacekeepers are violent? I feel like their lives are pretty good. Don't you think?"

Xavier nods. "What are you saying?"

"I'm not sure. I guess I'm thinking out loud."

"I used to get whipped a lot back home. Not Peacekeepers, though. I worked out in the fields. Usually, it was cotton picking or running a till."

"I've noticed its easy to hurt others when you can't feel pain."

"I reckon it's from all the problems there lately."

I need to watch what I say. Being vague as possible will help me. With all the sponsor haul, I feel like I've gained the empathy of the crowd. The Capitol citizens are more sympathetic to the Districts than ever, so they could catch on. "There's problems everywhere, Xavier. It's how people overcome them. The big issue is that you and I haven't been given a chance to fix them. We just follow orders."

"You're saying they don't care about us?"

"The worst part is that they need us more than they think. I will say that the Capitol people have been really helpful."

Pandering always helped. Many people have risen to power from this. They have given us food, water, and weapons for that matter.

While we keep rumbling through space, we start to near the dock. The radar says we are about thirty minutes out.

"We should have waited a little bit. It wouldn't have been such a long trip. Remember, it's always moving."

Xavier cranks his head back. "Are you okay, Monette?"

Monette knock on her helmet twice.

"Good. Make sure you have some water," I say. "We don't know how many supplies we can stock up on."

As I increase the thruster levels, I can't help but look around the spaceship. In this little bubble, we are okay for now. That world down there is so dark and mysterious. Before it, there was a land of wonder. A place where people could work out their differences. I'm not going to say it was great in the past. More wars were fought. More shortages occurred. But that didn't mean we went to war with ourselves. That didn't mean we couldn't find other resources.

"It's nicer up here, isn't it?"

Xavier does nothing but look out into the abyss.

"I can shut off the lights, turn off the systems, and fall asleep. No one to bother me. No one to cause me pain."

I pause.

"But what would there be to improve on?"

What purpose is there for me other than to make my life and others better?

"I wouldn't have anything. I have my two friends back home. Braquette and Cooper. Braquette always came to me when she had a problem. No offense if your out there, Braquette. Cooper helped me out with...information. I wouldn't know half the stuff I do if he wasn't there."

Telling everybody Cooper broke into the District records and private libraries wouldn't be a very smart thing. He really has helped me out. I think that thirst for knowledge has propelled me to who I am. Actually, I know it.

"It's a little comforting to me. To think that Panem may be in our hands one day. Our generation, I mean. We have to grow up someday."

"That's not comforting at all. No offense."

I chuckle. "None taken."

After another dearth in sound, the radar detects our arrival. I slow the thrusters as we approach the doors.

"Alright, so we need to find the pod bay door opener. It's a yellow rectangle."

"Does it have two arrows going in different directions?"

"Yup."

Xavier presses the button. The white doors yank open, revealing the dark red airlock.

"Lower thrusters further," I say while decreasing the levels. "Oh, almost forgot gravity alignment."

I push the purple button with a globe on it. We halt in front of the opening.

"What's that?" Xavier asks.

"So we don't lose the door while landing. We'll move with the ship."

"Do you even need the manual?"

"I read ahead. I can memorize things pretty well. Now, let's move forward."

With a quick flick, I light the thrusters again and move forward, like a snail on a tree branch. We start rocking like a small boat in rocky waters. The steering wheel jolts left and right. I grasp onto it harder, hoping it sticks in place. Xavier reaches over and grips it, keeping it from moving forward.

We enter the airlock. An alarm sounds, and I look down at the radar. I shut the thrusters off, and Xavier looks at me.

"Now we close up the doors."

Xavier nods and presses the same button again. A hydraulic hiss emanates from behind us. The doors slam shut.

"Killing main engine."

I press the ignition button off. The engine sputters.

"And shutting off main fuel lines."

Twisting the knobs by the ignition switch, the pumping fuel ceases flowing through the lines.

"Let's get out of here. Turning off systems."

"Why are you narrating yourself?" Xavier asks.

I look at him. "Have I been speaking to myself this whole time."

"Yup."

I could smack myself. I probably sounded like a fighter pilot from the old days with my talk. Oh, well. My eye meets the glowing radar.

I gasp.

We are so lucky.

Because just a few kilometers away are a pack of something.

**Venus Whitmore**

The white spaceship spins in plain sight just a few minutes away. We scramble to our feet.

"Okay. Everybody on the tether," Eva says.

I gingerly grip onto the thick insulated grey rope behind Eva and Aaron. It feels unsteady in my hand, like a rickety bridge over two mountain peaks.

"Alright. I'm going to spring over first and hook it up to the other side. Venus, you need to unhook as fast as possible, or this thing will snap."

"Gotcha. Wish me luck, Dove."

"Who's Dove?" Eva asks.

"A friend. I always bugged her at home."

The spaceship starts to get closer and closer. Without any chatter, I only hear my breathing. My arms tense up. I've never squeezed something so hard as the rope in my gloved hand. The glare of Earth is also unnerving. What if we let go towards Earth. Do we fall? Can we get back up? How much oxygen do we have? Why is Aaron moving forward.

The plan.

The spaceship moves past us inch by inch. Aaron tucks his legs in on the wall. With the tether end in his hand, he lunged forward.

He sails over the space.

After five seconds of flying in the deep, he collides with the moving wall. He snags the rope onto the railing, thankfully right next to the airlock doors.

Here goes everything.

I unclip the end and jump out behind Eva.

The moment I hear Aaron's shout, I know the plan failed.

I turn to my right.

A pack of metal shards and and glass is shooting at us like the comet trails sailing in the background.

I take another heave on the tether and fly forward, hoping to get to the airlock. Eva doesn't get the message in time. When she notices the debris, I crash into her back.

We divert off each other. My arms flail as I bang into the wall of the moving spaceship. From its spin, I fly forward towards Eva, who just collided into Aaron.

I feel another push forward from a metal rack flying into me.

I shout as I zoom towards Aaron.

Fortunately, the tether is right in front of me.

I clutch the moving rope with my right hand. My momentum carries me forward. My body jerks back while my grip stays firm on the lifeline. Then, I'm racing back forward as the ship moves me in its orbital direction. I move back towards the wall, the hook for the tether staying strong on the rail.

Eva and Aaron are spinning in motion. Both of them are moving away.

I blast off the wall and fly towards Eva with the tether in my hand.

I get closer to Eva. My arm reaches out to her.

Inches away.

A hand away from her.

I grab her by her collar and shove her behind me. She hangs onto the the tether.

Now Aaron is still a few feet away. But Eva's grab slowed down my moment and the tether's as well.

Eva takes charge.

She hoists her self forward and off the rope, moving right past me like a bolt of lightening.

Aaron is too far away. He is still sailing away from us. Eva can't reach him an get back to the tether. They are going to fast. There's no way they can turn around. I can't move fast enough to reach them.

She may hate me forever, but I'm not flying solo.

I take her ankle and hold it. We move forward faster towards Aaron.

The tether snags.

Eva holds her hand out. Aaron is spinning too fast to do anything but flail his arms.

She pulls to inches away from his suit.

Our momentum stops.

With her in one hand and the top in another, I pull with all my might to keep us from flying off with Aaron. Eva stops moving as the tether stretches to full length. Aaron keeps going away.

"No. We can still reach him," Eva says as she tries to sim forward.

I pull her back towards me. She struggles to move forward. "You can't. We'll all fly off the rope."

"But Aaron is right there," she yells.

"No, you'll both fly off. We'll all be done."

"Venus, let go of me," Eva shouts, her voice growing shaky.

"I'm not letting go. We're fine. We need to get back."

"Don't let go of the rope. Just let go of me," Aaron says.

"No! You can still come back. Just grab on something."

"Eva, there is nothing out here. I'm too far out."

We need to get out of this zone. Debris is almost cleared out, but I don't want to take anymore chances. I pull Eva back, causing her to move towards the door. I spin my body backwards and face the airlock doors. I start to scrunch forward, like a kid climbing a rope. Eva starts to push off the rope again towards Aaron. This time, I take my full arm and grab onto her as we head back to the door.

I push the red button beside the door, and I shove Eva inside.

I hold her back as it closes.

"Eva, you're smarter than this."

"No! I'm not letting him go. Aaron!"

"Eva, it's no use. Just stop screaming. You're in control of your emotions. You told me that." I say.

"Eva, you need Venus as much as she needs you. Don't come out here. You need to accept what I am now."

As Aaron's words come out, Eva passes out.

**Aslovee Chesed**

You know, Chesed isn't even my last name.

For all I know, it isn't. When I was about ten and a half (don't know when my fucking birthday is, either. There was this old, rich guy. Apparently, he was a slave trader of some sort, so when I broke into his bread store, I walked to the back room for some food. When I looked in and saw the chained up fuckers with rags stuffed in their mouths, they were starving and weak.

I'm no hero by any means, but I don't think I'm a shitty monster of some kind.

The problem was that I couldn't find a key of any kind no matter where I looked. Found a bunch of ash which lasted me a few months, but no key. Fortunately, I saw the keyholes were all the same, so I could let them out when I got it.

As I started to speak to one of the teenagers, I heard the bell ring in the front of the small store.

The large back room had plenty of hiding spaces. There was a desk, no lighting, and a refrigerator with just enough space for me to squeeze into. Ducking disgusting. He dangled good right in their faces. A few pokers lay around a small fireplace, and a table with a rag and a bucket of water sat in front of it. I'm assuming it was for water-boarding.

I saw a whip on his desk. Perfect.

I hid in one of the dark corners. This one between the fridge and the wall. The bitchy shithead was quite wrinkled and had a few liver spots dotted around his face. He had more facial hair than the wispy strands on his greasy head. He had on a nice tuxedo with black shoes and a top hat. If he could look more like a pussy, I don't know how. He went over to his desk and sat down. Turning on the lamp on the mahogany desk, he chuckled at the row of chained teenagers.

"Just got back from a business meeting," he said in a deep voice. "We decided on the orientals for starters. So you people with the small eyes and yellow skin, congratulations. You get to go first. Mister Rose will be here at nine thirty."

He stood up and started toward the fireplace. He reached towards the orange flames and pulled out a poker, an insignia placed in red hot glory at the end. The fuck nugget turned around and headed for the slaves.

"Now, you see, there's been a nasty little trend going around. Some idiots think the have the audacity to go ahead and actually steal someone else's property. The problem the Peackeepers have isn't finding them, but proving they are stolen. You see, paperwork in this trade isn't very...allowed by some people. Wining and Dining with the Head Peacekeeper can only get you so far. Isn't that right, Hoover?"

A tan kid in the moonlight with bruises on his arms and legs stares at this sick fuck. Then, the old guy slaps him.

"I said, isn't that right, Hoover?"

He nods.

I had enough of this. I'm hungry, it's late, and my conscious won't shut up if I don't do something soon. I take the long leather whip off his desk, careful not to knock any of his glass paperweight over. Hey, glass paperweight. I can use that. I grab an elephant one, and sneak towards him.

"Don't worry about the poker, kid. It won't hurt as much as you think. Only as much as a cattle prod. But it's okay. Because tomorrow, we'll pretty you up and send you off for show. You might win first place if they give those out."

He lifted up the kids sleeve on his ragged brown cloak. He hovered the poker over his arm.

"One here, and one on the other for the fun of it, huh?" He said

To ensure it doesn't accidentally hit his skin, I kicked the poker away from his hand.

Them, I fling the whip onto his face.

He yelled in pain and tried to cover himself. No use. I kept lashing at him, tearing up his precious suit in the process. Blood is starting to form from his deep cuts and welts I'm already putting on him.

When I stop after five minutes, he is gasping for air.

I run over to the poker and rush back to him. As if it was a dagger, I pound it into his face. His eye socket, to be exact.

With his screaming, I'm sure he's attracted attention by now. Time to end this.

"Where's a knife?" I ask Hoover.

He points to the man's back pocket.

It's a smallish switchblade, but it will do. And whaddya know? The key is right there.

I stab into him about ten times before he croaks for good.

Yuck. Looks like I'll need to steal more clothing. This blood will look suspicious. And I hate being dirty.

I free everyone, get my food, and live happily ever after. Hooray.

But before I left, I snagged the token I have dangling around my neck: a silver necklace with the ying yang symbol. And, I notice the name of the bakery. Chesed bakery.

Two things to remind me of that day. It was a bit of a turning point. I won't be intimidated by anybody, and I will stand by what I need to so to survive. I don't want to kill, but I'll take all the risks I need to live another day. That's been my whole life, so why should I change now?

That slut from District One trying to get in my pants wasn't anything new. A whole bunch of girls tried that in Nine. Either they wanted money, or they thought I was easy living out on the streets. It was amusing, seeing how far she would go. I bet the Capitol girls are drooling over me right now. I guess I'll be shirtless the entire way through this. Whatever. It's not like that shit clothing would help me survive. If they decide to make the temperature cold as fuck, that thin fabric wouldn't do anything.

Actually, I almost wanted to see her try for one of my swords. I thought she would have had half a brain cell to try and kill me.

I know my limitations, though. I could easily take down that whore, but I knew the rest of the pack was fast approaching. I got out of there fast.

Here I am in front of that transportation room. I guess I have to go to the other parts of the arena now. I am starting to get hungry. Good thing I've been hungry my whole life.

What does make me interested is that guy.

I'm assuming it's the Capitol's attempt at psyching me out. I'm not falling for it, though. There's no way I could care about my parents, even if they still exist.

They can play all the tricks they want, but I'm staying strong. They won't scare me from these Games. I've been playing them since the moment I opened my eyes for the first time.

* * *

**Well, we might have a situation. Or maybe the situation is the whole Games.**

**As always, comment as constructively and thoughtfully as possible. **

**Question: What is the book "The Alchemist" about?**

**See you soon!**


	43. Day 4: Drift Away

**Aaron Artaga**

The blood in my head is rushing through my head. I've never been more dizzy in my life. My body spins, and I see the shrinking white arena fall away from my reach.

The fear bubbles up into my throat as I gasp for precious oxygen. Everything is swirling into a deep grey mush while my arms flail like a rag doll. A ringing fills my ears, and a sensor lights up in my helmet. It's warning me about my incessant flying, and the forces are jumbling my mind.

In one more effort, I see the other part of the arena. With the speed of a meteor, I'm nearing it like a bird on prey. A few more seconds and I will ram onto the side of it. With my trajectory, I'll just graze the curved end, giving me one chance of finding a railing. Anything to stop my tailspin.

Ten more seconds.

I stretch both my arms in front of me. The Earth flickers in and out of my view with every turn. It's haunting glow hurts my eyes even more.

Final seconds.

The siren in my suit gets even louder.

With my back facing the outside wall, I bang onto it and skim my hands on the surface for any hold I can reach on.

I see a porthole from the corner of my eye and grab onto it.

Because of my momentum, my fingers can't hold on.

Despite straightening myself, I race past the porthole and the rest of the arena. As I see the entire arena at a distance, I see a shimmering from it, like it was submerged in water and I was looking down at it.

My head isn't hurting, by I gasp even harder. I'm alone, drifting around Earth. All alone.

This is the worst death. Of course, one of the least painful, but easily the worst. My death, guaranteed, is now up for contemplation until my oxygen runs out. Humanity is staring right at me from below. Somebody. Anybody.

"Help me," I whisper.

I was supposed to stay with Eva until the very end. We were going to make it to the end. There was no doubt about it. One of us would come how the hero. I was going to make sure that Eva make it.

Granted, I don't think I would have sacrificed myself for her. I'd like to win.

Eva has to win now. There's no other way. My legacy has to live on for others.

"Damn it."

I look down at covered hands. They've done so much for me. They'll be limp and cold, scrunched together in a locked fist. I'm more helpless than any man, drowning in an ocean I just woke up in.

"Aaron. You still there?"

The voice crackles through my helmet. I look towards Earth. Am I already imagining things? Sometimes, people do that before they die or so I've been told.

"Hello?" I say with an unsure voice.

"Aaron, where are you? Eva just passed out."

So it is Venus. Then, my heart leaps up in my chest. Eva can't be passed out now. She has to be strong and awake. If she can still hear me, them I can get my feelings towards her out.

"What do you see? What's going on?" She asks in a frantic voice.

I gasp further. "I don't know. I was spinning and I couldn't stop. The arena is getting smaller and I don't want to be out here by myself. I don't wanna go out like this," I shout. I'm loosing my cool fast. If Venus and Eva can carry on, I can't make them depressed.

"Stop screaming. Don't breath so fast. Take slow, deep breathes." She says.

"Wake Eva up. I need to say something."

"She's passed out. I think it's from shock."

"Then wake her up. Now!"

I hear static go over the transmission. Please be awake. It's my only chance of closure. I can't have this weight on me anymore.

A few more seconds go by. The Arena is now a blip in my vision. In fact, it is starting to hide behind the globe.

"She won't wake up."

"Then do something. Hurry up."

My oxygen tank is going down fast. I only have five minutes of it left. I'm starting to shake. My breathing gets even faster. I can't help it anymore. My body is reacting on its own. Why did I volunteer? Why is Eva here? I just want to be at home and be with her. I wanted kids of my own one day.

The static comes in again. "I'm sorry, Aaron. The stress must have got to her."

I feel stinging saline blanket my vision. My throat is getting drier, and my nose is even running a little.

"Aaron, how long do you have?"

I can't bring myself to think about it anymore. "Just stay with me."

Venus goes quiet for a few seconds. "I'll stay."

"Can you tell something to Eva when she wakes up?"

"What is it?"

I choke up more. My voice croaks to life. "Tell her that I love her, and I don't think Nathaniel deserves her. That's her boyfriend at home. In fact, no one does. She's the most special person in my life, and she needs to beat these Games. Not for me, for her. Tell her that there isn't another universe where I could be happier to have been with her. And Venus? Make sure you guys make it to the end."

"We'll stick together. I promise."

I'm completely broken down now. Only a couple minutes left.

"Do you think there's more out here?" I ask.

"What do you mean?"

"Other people. Other places."

"I don't know."

"Then, let me believe it. I need something to believe in. That there is another life out there."

More silence. The clock note sensor keeps going down.

"If I told you those things existed, would you believe me?" Venus asks.

I keep staring in front of me. Earth's surface is placid, relaxed like a soft pillow. The arena has disappeared behind it. Clashing with the dull light is the endless black emblazoned with streaking comets and burning stars.

"If I told you I see Venus, would you believe me?" I ask with a rough chuckle.

"I don't know."

"Me neither. Even if I can't see it, I know it's still there. Like a lot of things," I say. Oh no. I almost forgot my family.

Twenty seconds left.

"Mom, Dad. You guys are amazing. Thanks. Nathaniel, my emotions were talking. Treat Eva right. To the Greens, thanks for making me part of the family."

Ten seconds.

"Thanks Venus. I feel better now."

As the clock ticks down, I know what needs to be done. I don't want to suffocate and die slower. I need to end this as fast as possible.

I unclip the holders on my collar, and my helmet comes off, floating away in a path all its own.

**Paige Parker**

So Romeo decided to go off the deep end.

After finding his little friends dead body, his eye started twitching. Then, he began to stammer like a nervous duck. After that, he started screaming like a chicken without a head. Before Glint could put him out of his misery, he ran off with his little mace.

Naturally, me and Glint argued about frisking her body. Then, we figured nothing was there, so we left.

"I think our first goal should be to get out of this place. I bet those other three are gone by now," Glint says.

"I agree. I'm hungry as a giant dragon. Unlike a small dragon."

Glint blinks a few times. "Sure. By the way, thanks for helping me with Cadmium. I actually started to sweat there."

"No big. Although, I think we should find Romeo and rough him up first."

Glint leaned forward. "Why do you think that?"

I roll my eyes. "Duh. Because he is a threat, silly. Think, we have my District partner running around, and he's probably gone insane. Now, he either decided to ball up in a corner and wait for someone to snuff him, or he's become actually dangerous and is trying to find her killer."

Glint adjusted his hair as we floated forward. We rounded a corner, finding the airlock door.

"Or we could run to the next part of the arena and hope those other ones are there. And food."

Glint nods. "Sure. So, find food."

"Right. Or we slay the giant dick that is Romeo."

"Come on. He was nice."

"Well, we got to do something."

"Okay. We will go to the other part of the arena. Do you know how to get across?"

We stop in front of the door.

"I was just going to get in the suit and wing it. You jump a few feet when it comes around and get in, right? Just like a merry-go-round."

Glint nods. "Sure. We can do it. Let's suit up."

"You've always wanted to say that, haven't you?"

"Let's go in."

He presses the open button, and the door yanks to the side.

The room looks the same as before when we fought for it. Except for the person inside.

It's Aslovee. That wacko from District Nine.

Glint immediately shuts the door as Aslovee looks at us with a blank stare.

"Plan B?" I ask.

Glint shakes his head. "We don't need a Plan B. We are Careers. Why are we so afraid of everything this year? Let's kill him now!"

I look through the glass in the door. "He's coming this way with two swords. All our weapons were broken."

"Okay, Plan B." Glint says. He grabs me by the wrist and pushes off the door frame.

We fly through the hallway and round the corner. Glint keeps me in tow.

"Alright. There two of those rooms, right? We'll just go back the way we came."

"Yeah, but we still don't know where it is."

I wonder sometimes whether the Gamemakers want to help or hurt us.

Because a loud whoosh and a burst of hot air comes right behind us.

The towering flames are hurtling closer and closer.

**Xavier Thomas**

After we get out of the thing, the national anthem and death count come on. The District Eight girl and District Seven guy come on. Nothing that effects us. Cyrene lays out Monette's map on the table. The small girl with the short brown hair motions for us to come in.

"I believe we are here," she says while pointing at the paper. "And we need to get to the center. I'm assuming that's where the supplies are. Monette, Xavier told me you were very good with speed and detail. Can you scout in front of us when we get to the center?"

Monette nods. I like how she is very agreeable and sweet. Throughout this journey, she has been very nice to have around. What is more important is that she gives me purpose for continuing onward. There is one major problem with her.

"How will she tell us when there's a problem?"

"Boomerang. Monette, you will throw your boomerang behind you as far as it can go. That way, we will follow it. We won't be very far back anyway."

I'm very uneasy with Monette going forward. If something were to happen, it seems like Cyrene is using her as a sacrifice in case we run into trouble.

"She can't go in front. How will she protect herself?"

Cyrene clears her throat. She looks down at the map and stares at it. We stand in silence while Monette drums her fingers on the map. I'm getting tired of this silence.

"Are you listening? I will not have Monette be put in harms way."

Cyrene continues to look at the map.

I slam my hand down, causing the table to rattle.

"If we are going together, we will do this in a group. Remember, we let you join. If one of us goes down, we all do."

A scanning noise formed from the corner of the room. We all looked over as the Sponsor's cabinet whirred to life. Then, it stopped.

Cyrene did not hesitate as she ran to the spot and lifted up the metal sliding door. What she pulled out was a most unusual sight.

It was like a sword. However, it was round at the end. The entire blade was glowing in a neon color. A humming noise came from the odd weapon. Cyrene held it in her small hands, tumbling it around with her fingers. It sounded like an electric fence and grew in sound as she waved it around. She struck the wall. The impact of the odd sword left a small crater with burn marks around the edges of the strike zone.

"What is that?" I ask.

Cyrene takes a note from the opened cabinet. "It says that this is called a light saber."

Cyrene pressed a mack button on the metal handle. The blade returned to the inside of the handle, disappearing completely.

"It's some kind of burning stick?" I ask.

"I guess it will work for our purposes. Thanks, Capitol folks."

Still playing for the cameras. She knows how to work a crowd.

"I'll keep this by my side."

I go over to Cyrene's black club. "So I'll get this."

"Yup. Monette, can you carry our food and water?"

Monette nods and starts to strap on the backpack.

"Now, I saw that space debris roaming around outside. I think that may come back during several intervals. We might even feel it. Just keep note that it happened an hour before midnight. I think it's best if we get some sleep here."

I agree. For what it's worth, we have been hiding too much by ourselves in these rooms. It's only a matter of time before the Capitol throws something in our way. If a tribute doesn't get there first.

* * *

**Eulogy Time (plays sad music)**

**10. Aaron Artaga**

Aaron was a pleasant guy. He cared a lot for Eva-Marie, and he was a genuine fighter to the end. At least he saw the beauty of space.

**When we hit the top 8, another special chapter will happen, which will further affect the treatment of these Games.**

**Questions: What happens in "Shrek is Love, Shrek is Life"?**

**See you soon. And keep reviewing. I'll post the sponsor board tomorrow when I re-release this chapter tomorrow**.


	44. Day 4: Lurking In Black

**Glint Mugg**

The flames lap at out heels as I propel myself forward down the corridor.

Because of her smaller frame, Paige is in front of me by a few feet. Even with her injured leg, she is still powering on. The smoke is even starting to filter through my throat. With a quick turn of my head, I see the flames. They are billowing together like bubbles floating in a pack. It seemed that the flames were just a giant one that kept expanding like a balloon.

Paige starts to turn a corner instead of heading forward down the hall. An orange glow starts to build on her tan face, and she screams while pushing her self off the corner and flying forward again. When I get to the intersection, I see the next tower of flames come at me like the buses at the training center.

It reminds me of when I went to that place every day. Except Sunday, for some reason. Me and Mog used to sit next to each other on the bus.

"When are you gonna volunteer?" He asked.

I out my hands behind my head and leaned back. "Who knows, dude? I guess I'll sign up when I'm around sixteen. Those are the ones that usually go in anyway."

Just then, Feather walked onto the bus.

"Whoa. Who's that?" He asked.

"That's Feather. I live down the road from her. She braids my sister's hair."

"Tell her to come over to my house sometime."

"Tell me that yourself."

The turquoise eyed girl with short blonde hair out her hands on her hips and scowled at him. "Don't tell me your friends with this guy, Glint."

"Okay, I won't."

"So you are?"

Mog took one of her hands. "Come on. Just sit down for a second. It's a long ride."

After looking at me, I nod. She smacked Mog upside the head.

We were friends from then on. I can't disappoint them now.

In the face of danger, I'm not as calm as I want to be. At home, the y don't prepare you for these problems. Or anything in space, for that matter. Classes were always the toughest for me. I daydreamed too much, so I had to put even more effort in.

Actually facing danger has barely crossed my mind. I can make it through. This shouldn't be that hard. It's just like anything else chasing me.

We pull forward faster. We keep getting detoured as the flames barrel down the different hallways. Every time we think we found a turn, another block of fire starts to build out of thin air. Sweat forms on my blonde hair and touches my face. The fire is going faster. Everything behind me is evaporated into an orange haze.

My body is heated and exhausting fast. My endurance training is disappearing with every breath.

My hands are frantically searching for any hold or railing it can find. The flames lap closer and closer to the soles of my feet.

Then, we start to break away just a few feet from it. Paige gasps and bolts even faster towards a door on the side.

Thank goodness. A door on the side.

Escape.

Paige reaches the keypad and opens the door. She goes in, and I am about ten feet away.

That's when the door closes.

I shout when the thump of the closing portal seems to roar over the howling flames. When I reach the door, I look through the mirror towards Paige who is facing the mirror in the opening.

"Let me in," I yell. The flames are getting closer, hotter, and already singing the few hairs on my arm.

"I won't open it. You have to go."

"Press the black button."

"We can't stay together anymore. You're gonna turn on me any second and I'm hungry and I don't know what to do so hurry before you become marshmallow."

"So you're gonna kill me?" I ask.

I see her face holding a look of shock as I feel the heat clash into my face. When I spin around, I try to push off the door frame with my feet.

Too late.

The flames zoom over me, and I feel nothing but intense heat overcome my entire body. The flames enter from every part of me, melting off my skin and striking my hair.

I don't know if I'm screaming anymore. The pain overweighs any remaining thought.

The fire crashes over me like a truck running over a rabbit.

She was right. I was gonna turn on her the moment we got to food. This train only seats one.

It used to. Until it got baked like a loaf of bread.

Great. My last thought, and I'm still hungry.

**Monette Zacharias**

I don't know how I should feel about Cyrene anymore.

Was she really trying to get rid of me? It seemed like that was a possibility. She did want me to scout out, after all. She sounded very promising in her plan. I think she cares for us, but I'm feeling a little doubt.

Maybe if Caz was here so she couldn't split us up. Then, at least he would volunteer to go on. It's a terrible thought to think that he would have to brave the unknown territory, but he would have done it.

Now the only thing separating me from Cyrene's possible betrayal is Xavier.

No, she isn't betraying us. She was just thinking of ideas. She changed her mind afterward. In fact, I'm going to be between them in a line. Xavier in front with the club, me with the backpack in the middle, and Cyrene with her glowing sword. She has to care, otherwise she wouldn't be leading us on like this.

What if she is leading us on? What if this whole plan is for nothing. She made it up so she could tag along until the end.

Again, that voice in my head doubts what I'm thinking. I have no reason to not trust her. I usually do good at trusting people, but I'm feeling uneasy now.

She must be good. There is no way she is like the other people in the arena. Her and Xavier are really the only people I have now. Yes, I had maybe two friends at home not including Caz, but I've never been too close with anyone else. My eternally drunk dad and sick mom don't help either.

Even if she betrays us, I need to trust her. I have no other options.

When Xavier breaks through the glass to the dome, Cyrene pops her head into the freezing inner arena. It is a desert. A flat one. There is nothing except for clay colored sand mashing with the black sky above. It is almost completely black inside the dome.

Xavier helps me through the hole, careful not to scrap any glass on him. The air is frigid. I see my warm breath billowing out of my mouth in front of me. The crunch of the sand below me slightly startles me.

Cyrene presses a button on her metal handle. The glowing sword comes out. Green light bursts from the surface, shadowing her calm face with the glow.

"I'm assuming it's still nighttime in Panem. It may be daytime soon. We better hurry before the sun rises all the way. Who knows how hot it can get? I guess I'll lead the way."

I tap Cyrene on her shoulder. She turns around. I hold out a piece of roast beef at her. Another gift from the sponsors.

"Noticed I didn't eat, huh?"

I nod.

"Thanks, but I'm nervous enough as is."

I stuff the roast beef into her open mouth. She chews and swallows.

Xavier can't help but laugh.

Cyrene starts to walk forward. The crunching of our feet is the only soufflé in this vacuum.

A few feet forward.

A groaning sound.

Cyrene paused and we stop. She turns around, her eyes flickering around. After a few stretched seconds, she turns around.

We continue forward.

Another groan.

Cyrene stops.

The darkness around is suffocates the light. We can only see a few feet around us in a circle.

The groaning stops.

A sifting noise comes from my right. I whip around, meeting nothing but the dark.

Cyrene starts to move back with the stick glowing.

Still nothing by me.

"Alright. They're messing with us. Let's keep going." Xavier says.

Cyrene gets back in front. We head forward.

A minute passes by, and I hear the sand shift by me.

If I could cry out, I would.

I run up in front of Xavier like a lightening bolt. He turns around with the club in front of him. Cyrene stays behind him.

The shifting gets louder. Louder. Faster.

I bite my fingernails.

A hiss breaks through the black.

Just then, with the silence as it's backdrop, a giant flat head with green scales zips toward Xavier. It's teeth bare and it's forked tongue pointed right at the big black boy. The fangs open up towards him, coming at him with the speed of its own sound.

Xavier lifts his club up and swings it towards the side of the head.

It draws black blood, and the giant snake creature's head directs it's attention to its next target instead of retreating.

Cyrene.

Her eyes widen. The reflection of the striking creature grows in her eyes.

Then, she lunges forward with the light saber stretched out in front of her.

Her eyes close as the tip of the weapon launches into the creature's eye.

The large snake thing screams in agony, sounding much too like a person. It is a High-pitched voice with the lightness of a young boy. The uncontrolled shrieking reeks of human terror and pain. In fact, I think I know who it is.

Caz.

With the head bucked up and the body writing, Cyrene takes the opportunity to spear the creature in its neck. The light saber doesn't go immediately into his skin. Instead, it burns a hole into it like a hot knife in butter. He screams even louder.

With a high-pitched growl, i could swear that I here it speaking.

"Help, Monette."

As Cyrene prepares for another plunge, my body has a mind of its own. I rush forward at a breakneck speed and tackle Cyrene to the ground. However, the damage is done. The creature falls to the ground, squirming in complete agony. Xavier, shocked from the turn of events, bashes the creature in the head twice. Black blood starts to pool around its head, and the eyes stay locked in place looking right at me.

He lays motionless, defeated by the two Tributes by me.

And I almost saved him.

Tears start to blanket my vision. I roll off of Cyrene and stand up. She does the same. All Cyrene can do is look at me sobbing.

We stand around him, watching the black ooze leak out of the puncture spots.

**Eva-Marie Green**

On the inside, I'm absolutely torn apart. My best friend for almost my entire life is gone. I want to break down and cry my heart out. I want to ball up into a corner and tear my hair out and bang my head on the wall for letting Aaron literally slip away from my fingertips.

I could also be mad at Venus. She did stop me from saving him. I could have stretched out a few more inches. Venus could have stretched a few more inches. If only she wasn't two inches shorter than me. And if only Aaron was an inch taller than me.

That's wishful thinking. I can't break down. I had prepared myself for Aaron. I need to focus on my mission and move on. Getting mad at Venus won't do anything. She saved me. Logic has to win over emotion here. After the Games, I can sit down and drown my eyeballs in salty tears.

Venus sits next to me, her head on my shoulder. "It's okay to show emotion. You want others to think your a real person. Not a robot."

I sigh. "I understand. But if I start, I'll never stop. You know what I mean? I remember this one time when we were little. He always had this weird habit of holding in whenever he felt pain."

"Like physical pain?"

"Exactly. One time, we were riding our bicycles down this really big hill by our houses. We lived in a good part of Seven, like you in Twelve. It was a great place to grow up. So, we were going down the street, and Aaron lost balance. I told him to wear a helmet, but he said that he wanted to be tough," I chuckle. "So, needless to say, he fell on his head. He got up and seemed perfectly fine at first. Then, I dragged him over to my house. My dad saw his cracked head, and he just laughed. We put rubbing alcohol on a rag and pressed it to his head."

"Rubbing alcohol. That's the stuff that stings, right?"

I start to feel my mouth tremor. "Exactly. He kept calm all the way until I smashed that tag on his head."

Venus giggled. "Smashed it?"

I smile. "It was funny to see how fast he broke down. I felt a little bad, but I teased him all the time about it. He loved it, though. Me teasing him, that is."

"Eva, you're starting to cry."

I feel the corners of my vision get blurred like a bad television set. I wave her off. "You see, Aaron and my boyfriend, Nathaniel, got along a lot better than I thought. I met Nathaniel at the training center. A lot of guys flirted with me, so it makes sense that I go out with the one that didn't, right? Same thing with Aaron. All the girls crushed on him, but I knew better. It would just be a...distraction."

"Eva, no one will judge you. I'm here."

I start to speak faster. "But what's funny is that he actually spoke before he went out. Isn't that funny? How ironic is it that I was passed out then. I bet it was the lack of water. We really need to get some. The stuff from Cadmium's backpack is just about gone. I won't force you, but go ahead and tell me what he said."

"Eva..."

"Just go ahead."

Venus stared at me. I'm sure I look like a complete train wreck, but I need to stay strong through this. If I'm going to break, it's now. For some reason, I think Venus may hold back.

"It's alright, Venus. It's no big deal."

More quiet. Just say it. Please.

"He said that you were his best friend, and that he wishes you luck."

I choke. Then, I feel the hot tears roll down my cheeks.

I can't hold it in.

I break down right next to Venus. I wail out loud. My hands try to hide my face in shame from the rest of the world. I need to stay strong. I was supposed to be ready for this. I need to relax. I'm shaking in sadness, and my back feels as tense as a tight spring.

I cry for a few more seconds. Then, Venus closes her arms around me and pulls me to her.

I hug her like my life depends on it. Like I'm going to be swept away into rough waters during a storm. I bury my face into her shoulder, soaking the cool fabric of her shirt with saline.

"You'll be fine. Just rest, Eva. Aaron wouldn't have had it any other way."

After a few more minutes, I fall back asleep.

* * *

**Eulogy Time (plays sad music)**

**9. Glint Mugg**

I thought Glint was a nice Career. He wasn't evil or rude to others. He was actually nice and wanted to dream about different things in his life. However, he didn't leave much to the imagination for me, so he had to go.

**Question: What is the most memorable quote of the Games so far? Reapings and such included.**

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	45. Day 4: The Plan Unravels

Jerome sat inside of his condominium drinking beer from a tall glass. His leather couch felt stiff; cold even from his tension. He finally got the night off as Head Gamemaker. Seeing as most people where asleep in the Capitol, hardly much happened at night anyway.

Unfortunately, the space lag for the tributes meant that their sleep cycles were completely messed up. Who knew when was day and night up there? So, that fight around midnight happened, and some Tributes are still scurrying around.

Looking at the tributes, Jerome was more intent on finding this Victor soon. Lanarsus could only be distracted for so long, and his next beacon of hope in the form of a teenager could be somebody completely uncooperative to the good of humanity.

Even then, Jerome didn't want to intervene too much. The winner needed to face as many Tributes as possible. Why? He didn't know, but it felt that he needed to make sure it happened.

What bothered Jerome was Helen's sudden appearance. His bosses said that all contact would be lost while he did the job. When Helen came in, Jerome thought the Rebels were getting scared. The moment Lanarsus inquires further about the Games happening in District Thirteen, he will find a slew of engineers, scientists, and space material all ripe for demolition.

Paige may do for a Victor. She's a decent Career, and she has enough fun-loving humor to energize people. However, she was changed forever by her best friend's death. It's still changing her day by day. How would she face thousands of possible deaths? Then again, she has seen some already and seems fine by it.

Her District Partner was probably the scariest one at the moment. Nobody would follow a misogynistic pretty boy into space or anywhere for that matter. Romeo's looks would make him popular, but the hunting and killing of women out of hatred for them wouldn't go over with the higher-ups in the rebellion.

Monette is cute and likable. Sadly, she seemed way to passive and in the background. She would be a pretty weak face for a Rebellion.

Cyrene would be an excellent logical choice. Cute, intelligent, and a penchant for wanting change without being selfish and disappointing like Katniss. However, he was interested in what Cyrene was planning. She only referred to it as that, and she covered her lips when she whispered it. For all he knew, she was a pyromaniac who was planning on blowing herself up in a blaze of glory.

Poor Eva-Marie Green. For as pushy as she could be, she really did care for Aaron, even if to didn't appear that way. She was putting on a brave face, but Jerome knew she was breaking on the inside. Despite that, Eva-Marie was smart enough to know this was coming, so getting over it shouldn't be too bad for her despite being her best friend.

Aslovee was a complete wild card of epic proportions. He was a tough street fighter who rose from poverty and destitution to become Victor. It had a nice ring to it. Sadly, he hardly seemed like somebody that would follow orders. Honestly, Jerome was worried he would find a way to ruin the rebellion, kill Lanarsus, and become President himself. Not likely, but there are crazier people around. He would make a good, strong symbol, though. And he was certainly gaining the favor of the Capitol folks looking like that out there. If he's playing to them on purpose, he may be a mastermind.

Xavier was the classic farmhand: humble, strong, and loyal. It wasn't very smart for him to play bodyguard for Monette and Cyrene, but he did want to see them to the end. Not smart, but that dedication and loyalty towards people is just the thing others would rally around and listen to.

Finally, Venus. She was a die-hard patriot for Fistrict Twelve, and showing District pride now wasn't going to get past Lanarsus. Neither was the bow-and-arrow skills. Her and Eva-Marie made a formidable duo, and that showcase of cooperation and power would work well with them. Not to mention that she was nicer, more personable, and had more gusto than Katniss could have dreamed of. She may seem cut from the same cloth, but she would do well in a new role.

A knock came from the door, interrupting Caesar Flickerman's incessant guffawing at another joke by an interviewee for one of the families of the Tributes. Jerome stood up and set down the glass on the coffee table, missing the coaster by a foot. He stumbled over some of the trash littered on the floor. Hopping over a pile of newspapers, he made it to the red door and opened it.

Helen walked right in.

"What are you doing here?" Jerome asked.

"Change of plans. The guys back home are working on something else."

Jerome stared at Helen, his mouth slightly agape. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that we aren't shooting for the moon anymore. We are going further."

Jerome leaned on his brown kitchen counter with his elbow cocked away from his body. "Are you saying the plan is ruined?"

"No, absolutely not. We are just changing our target. Turns out, the science guys have been working on a contingency plan of this sort of thing. After a vote, they've decided that we can't stop at the moon."

"So we're supposed to go to another planet?" Jerome yelled.

"Calm the hell down."

"No, you calm the hell down."

"I'm already calm."

"You're saying we are changing the rules just like that. Why?"

"They keep saying that if we get to the space station, we won't have time to dock, unload, send people up, and get to the moon."

"We already covered that. We said it was necessary." Jerome said even more flustered.

Hellen nodded. "I understand that. But they changed their minds."

Jerome paced around like an airplane out of a flight pattern. "That's the problem with people. They never, ever commit to anything. If your going to do one thing, you need to get it done. This is just what happened to m-."

Jerome stopped. Helen raised and eyebrow.

"To who?"

"To my parents."

"Your parents."

"I was out in an orphanage for a reason, Helen. Who cares? That was in the past. Do I need to do something now?"

"The plan for you is the same. We just need to stretch this out for another year."

Jerome sputtered. "Another year? We were supposed to launch in two weeks."

"We are, but we want to go where we are positive they won't follow. No matter what?"

"The moon isn't enough for you people?"

"Not anymore. You see, there is a theory that, if traveling at a high enough speed, you can go to realms that have never been thought to exist. A place where everything changes permanently."

"A place safe from the Capitol forever?"

Helen nodded. "Looks like you're the one on the outside looking in this time."

Jerome rubbed his face. "What is this amazing plan? And are we still using the space station?"

"Of course we are using the station. Your part stays the same. We are telling you this as courtesy."

"Fuck courtesy. What is it?"

Helen took out a Manila folder and hands it to Jerome. He stared at the blank bleached cover.

"In case of bugs, I can't say out loud." Helen said with a smile.

Jerome opened the folder.

The front page had the strangest symbols, equations, and descriptions for mechanics he ever saw dotted on a paper.

He looked up at her. "You know I don't know this shit."

"Look at the bottom."

Jerome's eyes fell to the bottom of the page. He read the bold text.

Project Chekov Revised: Inter-dimensional Transportation.

Jerome looked back up, his ace painted in bewilderment. Helen grinned at his reaction.

"While the Victor is buttering up people to get comfortable with the idea, we will show the people at home that this concept is possible. And how will we do that?"

The Games.

"You know, even with our puppet being in charge, I can't get away with my part of the plan without help. Which nobody is going to give me. Otherwise, they'll know about us."

"Only you, me, and the Head Chairman of the board know. I'll be leaving soon."

"When?"

"I can't say. Before the Games end. Make sure you destroy that as soon as you finish. We don't want it getting into the wrong hands."

Just as Helen started to leave, Jerome gasped. He ran towards the door and stood between it and Helen. Helen looked surprised as Jerome stalled. He was unsure of what he was doing, almost ignorant if his own wishes.

"Can you stay here for a few minutes? I haven't had anyone over that was friendly."

Helen's face softened. "You knew that was part of the conditions."

Jerome started to tear up. "It's just that I wanted to watch TV with you. Just for an hour or so. I want one good memory before I'm gone."

Helen sighed. "Don't say things like that. I'll stay for a little bit. And buck up! You've cried twice now since I've been here."

Jerome smiled. "Thank you. I promise I'll stay on my side of the couch."

Jerome was much calmer when she left. Maybe he was even happy. He doubted it. He couldn't remember the last time that happened.

* * *

Thats right folks. In next years games, we will be crossing dimensions. **Reservations for spots will start now.** **However, only the top eight currently can reserve.** The top four will be guaranteed spots in the Games. After a Victor is crowned, reservations will be available to all OC creators. Once the entire story concludes after the epilogue and minutiae of winning, the remaining spots will be open to the public. **THIS IS NOT FIRST COME FIRST SERVE WITH THE EXCEPTION OF THE FINAL FOUR.** If you reserve a spot and send in a character, but the character does not fit a certain standard of common sense excellence, you will be forced to make another character or make revisions. **If you do not send a character in three days after you reserve a spot, you will lose that spot.** You may, however, start sending characters in now regardless. This gives people plenty of time to plan characters, send apps to me, and make revisions if I don't approve. That way, people aren't scrambling for a character made up in five minutes.

Question: Who would make the best new Mockingjay? This will not effect the Games in any way. I will set up a poll.

**The Sponsors Points Board**

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**Kill Count**

Aslovee Chesed (District 9)-4

Who knew Nine had it in them? And he killed his own District partner? Too bad Sirch had to go against a swordsman. And I wonder why he was so slow on killing in that last situation.

Slate Bedford (District 2)-2

If there was a Career stereotype, she must be it. Good riddance.

Glint Mugg (District 1)-2

He almost seems to nice to kill. Oh well. A Career killing another Career. That's new. Maybe.

Eva-Marie Green (District 7)-1

Even Johanna had to start somewhere.

Romeo Caliteo (District 4)-2

He touched the trident last before it pierced her, so it is technically his kill. Figures. Hope he doesn't get too maniacal, though.

If you have any characters, reservations, or questions, let me know.


	46. Elite Eight Interviews

The interviewer stood behind the camera pointed at Romeo Caliteo's family. His mom sat in a chair, and Demetrius, Argon, and Flynn Junior stood around her. They were his brothers. They were in front if the seashore. The crashing waves shone in the new sun behind them peeking over the horizon. "How was Romeo at home most of the time?"

"He wasn't home very much," Demetrius said. "Usually, he stayed overnight in other places and came back the next morning. He sulked around the house some, and then he went back out for another night."

"Do you have any say in that matter?" The interviewer asked the mother.

"Yeah, but Romeo is a grown boy. He can make his own decisions. If he wants to go out and do something, then he can. If he gets hurt, he knows where home is." Mom said.

"Romeo hadn't said much about you all until the Games. Is what he said an accurate representation of yourselves?"

"All I'm going to say is that Romeo is out there for a good reason. He is bringing honor to this family, and that's all we are going to say." She said.

"Now, we have Romeo's friend, Apollo, here. How do you feel about Romeo's performance so far?"

The tall blonde man winked at the interviewer. "You mean with Satine or in the Games?"

"Just the Games."

He put his hand on the wood bench, supporting his thin frame on it."Me and Romeo are cool. You see, all these girls here, none of them can keep their hands off of us. I think Romeo is a bit more old-fashioned, though. He wanted to find true love or something weird like that. Now, I'm wondering what he's gonna do with his girl gone."

"How did you all feel with his relationship in the Games?"

"It seemed like something he would do. I'm afraid he's going to collapse and be insane, but we haven't seen enough yet to make that judgement," his brother said.

"Any statement you'd like to make to him of he was watching?"

"Go, bro. Make it home so we can be kings of the District," Apollo said.

"Do it for us. We will live in the lap of luxury forever. Bring back honor to the family or don't come back at all. Simple as that," His mom said.

**Paige Parker**

Sam and Mary Parker sat hand-in-hand in their house. They sat in the dining room. It was a quaint room with various fishing memorabilia and pictures of the family together. The air was warm from the blowing salty wind from the ocean.

"You're family is no stranger to these Interviews, Mister and Missus Parker. A few years ago, your son was in this same position. Do you think that experience has helped Paige make it this far?"

"Absolutely," her dad said. "She had become much more bubbly and funny after Alex passed, and I think it is because she knew that he would want her to move on. To learn the lessons he did."

"Now, she seemed to express hesitance towards Eva-Marie Green due to her similarities to Johanna Mason. Are you glad that she fought through her fear to help out her friends?"

"I knew for a long time she was a very brave child. Facing all that sadness from Alex's death, she had to move on. Now, I can't wait to see how she gets through this. I'm sure she would jump at the first chance to take on that Eva-Marie girl."

"What have you done to prepare Paige for the possibility of the Games?"

Mary laughed and jabbed a thumb towards Sam. "He taught her everything she knows."

He nodded. "She knew how to handle a net when she was six. She was practically born in water."

"Literally."

"What do you mean by that?" The interviewer asked.

"Use your imagination," Mary said.

"With us, we have Paige's self-proclaimed best friend and cousin, Joe. What was your relationship like with her, and do you think she's wondering about you right now?"

Joe sat next to Sam Parker. He nodded and clasped his hands together on the wood table."We are best friends. She's hilarious, and obviously she cares for me since she volunteered for my sister. Even if she practically is my sister anyway. I knew Ariel was gonna go a long way, and I expect her to get all the way home."

"Is Ariel a nickname?"

"Alex gave it to her. You can see the resemblance."

"What did you and Paige do together?"

"Almost everything. We swam all the time. Cliched, I know. A District Four kid that likes swimming. We always went out for ice cream. She wouldn't leave me alone until I got her some. Sometimes, she would even whip me with the towel. There were stretches where every sentence out of her mouth was a joke of some sort. I think she couldn't stop herself sometimes. She'd make a great comedian."

"She just made a controversial move in eliminating Glint Mugh from competition. Can she handle herself the rest of the way through?"

"As long as she finds food and water. I believe she ran out yesterday?" Her dad said.

"Do you think there is any hope of her uniting with Romeo to get District Four a Victor?"

Mary shook her head. "I don't know about that kid anymore. I'm afraid he may do something crazy."

"Because being in the Games isn't crazy enough," Joe said.

"Thank you very much. District Four very much alive in these Games."

**Cyrene Polymer**

Cyrene's parents sat in two different chairs next to each other. Each one held a baby on their knees, twins. Their living room was spacious, if not empty. There was a leather couch and a black coffee table with a large box television underneath a painting of a metal spoon. The interviewer sat behind the camera, adjusting his microphone.

"Cyrene is quite the thinker. Was she normally like that at home?"

Her mom bounces the baby quicker on her knee. "I don't think so. I'm shocked that she is so smart and curious about different ideas. Not saying I thought she wasn't talented, but did you think she knew so much?" She asks Cyrene's dad.

He stared blankly at her, then he turned back towards the interviewer. "Cyrene is a very free thinker. That being said, she does over thing a lot of stuff, so I doubt most of what she says is particularly serious."

Cyrene's mom squinted her eyes at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The dad stammered. "Nothing. I'm just saying that she doesn't know...just how good things...actually are."

"Like what?" Her mom asks.

"Nothing. I'm just saying that if it isn't broken, then it shouldn't be fixed. Cyrene is a teenager. You know, with teenagers...nothing is good enough for them."

"Honey, I think she has a good enough head on her shoulders to kno-."

"Are there any other questions?" Dad asked.

The interviewer looked down at his notepad. "Did you raise Cyrene with the beliefs that she appears to have?"

"That's ridiculous. She came up with it on her own. She just doesn't know better. Teens take things for granted."

Mom looks at Dad incredulously. "I think Cyrene is smart enough to not take things for granted."

"What about the brussel sprouts I make for dinner? She never liked those. Throwing away food."

Mom shook her head. "Nobody here likes brussel sprouts. Yet, you keep making it."

"You know what," Dad gave Mom the baby and ripped off his microphone. "Good luck Cyrene." With that, he stormed out if the living and flung the front door open before slamming it, rattling some of the pictures on the glass shelves.

Mom turned back to the interviewer. "We are all proud of Cyrene."

"Of course. Do you think her strategy in the Games is wise?"

"I think so. She's able to be protected, and she can protect herself.

"What do you think her master plan that the three are talking about are?"

"I think it will involve her taking all the goods in the arena. A lot of people will starve because she has all the supplies. She would strangle everyone else out."

"And then what."

Mom stayed silent for a few seconds. She looks down at the babies on her lap. "She must do what she has to." She said while staring at the twins.

**Monette Zacharias**

In a dull-lit tiny room with crushed beer cans and the stench of stale smoke, Monette's dad sat in a wooden chair, his fingers digging into the thigh of his orang jumpsuit. Two peacekeepers were lined on the wall behind him.

"Mister Zacharias, you haven't had the most access to these Games, but you have to be happy from Monette making it I the final eight."

Her father swatted the air in front of him. "Sure. I'm glad I could see her at some point in time. I've been in here for a little bit, so she looks okay at the moment."

"You've been incarcerated for nine months."

"Time flies when you're having fun."

"Being the youngest tribute in these Games, has that proven to b an advantage or nah?"

He sputtered. "Obviously it has. Otherwise she would by deader than my parenthood life." He let out a bark of a chuckle.

"How did Monette normally act around you and how did you feel about her best friend. You must have been introduced to Caz at some point."

"Ugh," he rolled his eyes. "She was the quiet little brat she is now. If anything, she took me for granted. You know how many times I look back on my childhood and see the great things good ol' dad did? Change a lightbulb. Hunt. Clean a window. And she never complained. It's genius, really. She would never complain. You see," he adjusted himself in his chair and leaned forward. "You'd think being mute would be bad, but it was a real blessing in disguise. No headaches or nothing. I could come home at night, and not a peep. Is wake up. She wouldn't utter a single syllable. Those kind of things help. It's not easy trying to work and handle a kid."

"But that's what you signed up for when you got her mom pregnant."

He rolled his eyes again. "Please. I signed up for a night in a bar bathroom. The product was not included in the mix. Anyway, mommy doesn't know up from down anymore, so I guess no harm, no foul. Because no matter what, I'm still the strong one. I'm the only reason she still is out there. She's gonna bail me out and come running into my arms."

"Do you think that's deserved at this point?"

"It doesn't matter if I deserve it or not. Lots of people have things happen that they may not deserve. As for that other kid, he hung out with her, and that was that. It doesn't matter to me who she plays catch with. It's not like they're getting married. At least, anymore," he said while letting out another wheezing laugh.

"How did she lose her voice?"

"I'm not gonna tell you. Maybe if she actually comes back, you all can do your magic on her."

"Okay, that should be it. Thank you, and I pray for your recovery."

"From what?"

"Nothing."

**Eva-Marie Green**

The Green family were located in front of the large brick warehouse that was the Training Center. They were huddled together in front of the white sign and fountain. The wind was gently combing through the air around them, and the rising sun lit the periwinkle sky.

"Eva-Marie seems to be very effected by the death of Aaron. How-."

"We all are." Edeth, Eva-Marie's twin said.

The interviewer scribbles something on his notepad. "Describe their relationship. Clearly, they were very close."

"They were best friends. When Eva decided to go through the Games, he didn't even hesitate to go with her."

"He was family," Eva-Marie's dad said. "No doubt about it. Watching him for those few seconds after he took his helmet off was hell on Earth for us. I know I couldn't look at it."

"Do you think this will strengthen her will to win, or will it completely destroy her?"

"I think it's understandable that she would cry," Eva-Marie's mom said. "That girl from Twelve is very nice. I think they would have been great friends. But to answer the question, I think she knew this would happen. She's prepared for it, and she knows that Aaron would want her to win regardless."

"We have here her boyfriend, Nathaniel. Nathaniel, how was your relationship with Eva-Marie."

"She is amazing. Everything about her. She seems very pushy, but that's just on the surface. I was good friends with Aaron. The three of us were very close, and it was hard to imagine that ending."

"Do you think you love her?"

"I would like to say yes. When she gets back, I promise I'll be the best boyfriends I can be for her. Like Aaron said, she deserves it."

"How do you all feel about Venus lying to Eva-Marie about Aaron's final words?"

"It was selfish." Nathaniel said.

"It was necessary." Edeth said.

The two of them look at each other. They turned back to the interviewer.

"She should have told her. Aaron would get peace."

"He already has peace. Eva shouldn't be burdened with how Aaron actually felt. It's too much too soon."

"Whatever."

"Are there any last minute remarks you would make to Eva-Marie right now?"

"Stay smart, baby. Stick with Venus. Do this for Aaron, and for us." Her dad said.

"Be the beast I know you are, Eva. Don't pressure yourself." Nathaniel said.

**Aslovee Chesed**

"How did you find us?"

Two teenagers with brown hair, identical height, and dirt-stained clothes were standing in front of a light brown wall in a street in District Nine. They were perplexed at the cameras in front of them. At first, they thought they were being arrested for some reason, but then they were told of their real reason for being interrogated.

"We have our ways. I'm here with Isabel and Christian, brother and sister in District Nine. You two are the only people that know Aslovee on a personal level, so we need to ask you a few questions."

"Sure...I guess," Christian says.

"How did you and Aslovee meet?"

"We were a little younger. Me and Isabel were in an alleyway. We were freezing and hungry. A normal life for folks like us."

"Like you?"

"Street rats," Isabel said. "I was snuggled up next to Christian, and we were on our third day with no food. Not the worst we've done, but the weather didn't help. Them, we see this short-I mean muscular kid with pitch black eyes looking right at us. He said 'This is normally my spot.' He seemed older than us and certainly stronger."

"We were scared for our lives. Then, for no reason other than maybe pity, he threw us a basket of apples. He told us later he 'found' it by an orchard. He walked away, and we spent the next day looking for him. When we did, he was in the middle of this fight with some prim and proper rich kid from the good part of Nine. Back then, Aslovee wasn't quite as skilled in his...conflict resolutions. So we helped out. He thanked us, and we kind of helped each other out now and again."

"So you were his only friends."

Christian chortled. "Absolutely not. He didn't have any friends. I don't think he really wanted any. He certainly made enemies. Especially if you messed with him."

"I guess that's a good thing about him," Isabel said. "He only really did things to people that put him at a disadvantage."

"So he had a sense of justice."

"I can't say that, either. His hands weren't very clean. I mean, they were. Physically. He was a clean freak. I think he broke into some places just to shower." Christian said.

"Actually, I think the less people know about him, the better." Isabel said.

"Great way to support him, Isabel," Christian said.

"Calm down. I'm just being honest."

"Don't be. This is important," he said. He turned back to the cameras. "Aslovee is an angel and will be eternally grateful for any good deed done for him. That's it."

Christian took Isabel's hand and rushed away into the alleyway.

**Xavier Thomas**

Outside of a small ramshackle cottage, a middle aged man and woman stand on the steps leading up to the screen door. The wood on the steps was bent and worn. The windows were sweating with the early morning mildew along with the grass up to the interviewer's knees.

"Byron and Morgan are Xavier's parents and we are outside of their house right now. Next to them is his brother, Delmar. I must ask all of you if you ever dreamed of Xavier making it this far."

"I reckon that our District has been on the bad side of news, so I'm glad that everybody was able to look past that and see my boy for who he is." Byron said.

"He is a strong, hard-working man. I wish he would leave those two, though. If he's going to win, he can't be body guard the whole time," Morgan said.

"Despite being in space, it seems that Xavier is getting along fine because of the guidance of one of the peopl he's protecting. Shouldn't he be around people that can help him?"

"He isn't the sharpest scissor in the drawer," Delmar said.

"Quiet, boy. Your brother is doing good," his dad slapped Delmar on the back of his head before turning back to face the camera. "I believe he knows how far to string this along. He will be prepared to do what he must."

"How do you feel about his allies?"

"I don't trust that blonde girl Cyrene. She is too smart for her own good. She'll probably find a way to kill him before he even knows it. The boy is pretty trusting."

"Cyrene is a fine young lady, Morgan," Byron said to his wife. "She has gotten him far, and will continue to help in her plans."

"What do you think are her plans, anyway? It's keeping everyone guessing."

"I think she's going to stockpile goods from the center of that desert and head out for the rest of the tributes. I think they'll travel to the next arena." Delmar said.

"Most likely." Morgan said.

"What did he normally do at home?"

"Work in the fields. He did a very good job out there. Ever since I was bit by a snake, I've been a lot slower. I'm proud of my boy for picking up the slack."

"What would you say to him right now if you were there?"

"Keep it up. You're strong and smart. Follow the ones you trust." Morgan said.

"Knock them dead," Delmar said.

**Venus Whitmore**

Outside of a white two story home with a red door and blue shutters, River Whitmore stood behind her two five year old twin daughters. Next to her were to other people who adjusted their microphones. The grey sky in District Twelve hovered over them like an umbrella covering the sun. The atmosphere was still, tense even from the cameras pointed at them like lasers.

"It appears that Venus and Eva-Marie have gotten closer throughout the Games. Do you think they're partnership can shine through to the end?"

River smiled. "No doubt about it. They are both strong, independent, and smart. Classic Venus."

"There has been tumultuous time in District Twelve. How has her growing up during this era effected her?"

"When she was a little girl, she was much more quiet. She stuck to doing schoolwork and such. Her father, before he died, taught her how to survive in case something dramatic happened. That's how she became skilled with the now and arrow."

"So she knew how to use a bow and arrow before it was cool?"

"After some of the ruckus the past year or so, she's become a lot more energized and outgoing. She met Dove and Sterling, and she became insanely prideful of her District."

"So she's a patriot of sorts?"

"She has the District flag pinned to her wall. She has flag printed clothes and swimsuit. Don't ask me where she got that. Whenever someone says one negative thing about this place, she goes off."

"So her motivation is to better the lives of her District."

"I think so. I'd hope that we would be a reason to come home as well."

"Go Venus. Show them what you got." Autumn and Willow, the twins, say.

The interviewer laughed. "Meanwhile, with us is Dove and Sterling, her two best friends. How did you all meet?"

Dove smiled. "About two years ago, she came to the restaurant In working at. We have a band play every Friday on the stage in there. So, naturally, when she saw the drummer, she decided to play with it. When I went and asked her to stop, she told me to join in. The crowd thought it was for show, so they liked it. She liked to do trick shots to entertain people."

"I met her there, too. Dove told me to meet her, so I guess I became a friend by association."

"Does Venus act at home like she has in front of Panem?"

"As much as one could being in the Games," Dove said. "She is still the same Venus."

"Do you agree with her being an ally with Eva-Marie?"

Sterling coughed. "To be honest, they seem cut from the same cloth. Eva-Marie does seem a little more brash, but I think her not boyfriend's death has made their bond stronger. They'll make it through. After that, who knows?"

* * *

Jerome turned off the television. He sat on the very edge of the couch with Helen on the other side. They stared at the black screen, scanning the reflection of the city lights flickering outside the window.

Helen sighed.

She got up and took her bag.

"It's been a few hours. I think it's best if I go now."

As she left, Jerome gasped quietly. He lunged over and grasped her hand in his.

"Wait."

He stood up in front of her. He was frozen in place. Again, his body did something that his mind could not calculate. All he could do is look at her, his own tense figure present in her irises.

The soft rumble of the air conditioning was the only sound.

Jerome opened his mouth. No words exited.

A car horn honked from the streets below.

Jerome sniffled.

"I..." He said.

Helen stood with a face of concern. Jerome continued to search for the right words. He scratched the back of his head, adjusting his glasses. He took another breath.

"I want to say thank you. I know what I'm going to be faced with in a day or two, so this helped. I haven't had much to be happy about lately, but you've made me very happy."

Helen smiled. "Just from watching TV with you?"

"I just can't help thinking that this might be the last good moment I ever have."

Helen nodded. "We're all proud of you. You may think this, but you aren't a tool. You are an incredible asset to this, and no one else could do it better."

Helen turned around and started towards the door. She passed the counter and picked up an apple from the basket.

As she reached the door, she turned around.

Jerome smiled at her. A real smile. A few tears went down his face as he coughed out another chuckle.

Helen waved and opened the door.

"You know, Aaron Artaga may be right about what he said. About other sights and people." Helen said.

She left.

Jerome sighed and closed his eyes.

* * *

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	47. Day 4: Why The Sexual Themes?

**Paige Parker**

Glint looked like crispy chicken after that fire went over him. I knew we had to split up eventually. This was the best opportunity to do so without having to deal with all the drama of normally splitting up. I thought the top eight would be the best point to stop, anyway.

I'll have to get to the other part of the arena as fast as possible. So now I have to put on these drab spacesuits and run out into space.

The room to go to space seems kind of destroyed. Somebody came and threw a whole bunch of stuff around the room. Either out of anger or sadness, I don't know. Regardless, I see my target. A tall bottle of water rests on its side. I laugh when I feel my body dive onto the bottle. I unscrew the cap and down the contents in a few seconds. I was starting to feel as dry as Romeo's sense of humor, but know I feel much more happy. The water feels like an elixir to me. It's brilliant.

Them I feel a throbbing on my leg.

If it wasn't for the bandages and painkillers Glint was able to steal from their fist aid kid as it broke open and sprung it's contents around, is be a goner. In fact, I'm already starting to feel a little bit of a fever. I'm hoping the others will drop quickly. I knew Glint was thinking of that, too. Being injured, I'm surprised he didn't get rid of me earlier.

Now I'm ready to go. When I put on all of the stuff, I tuck a few of the other goods into the built in backpack on the spacesuit. Only a few more steps and I'll be out in space.

It's so calm and peaceful out here. The stars are rolling behind the arena, and the weightlessness feels even more surreal, like my blood vessels are suspended on a string.

I float closer to the ship. I'm getting nervous. I don't want to get hit by anything and fly off.

Fortunately, nothing of the sort happens. I gently grab onto a rail on the ship. I start to climb sideway. It's so weird that I'm climbing sideways. Even though I know I'm sideways, I feel right side up.

Climbing over the curved surface like a rat on a wall, Earth is right in front of me. I'm looking at it from a sideways point of view. It looks incredible. The ocean stands still without waves or ruffles breaking its smooth cerulean surface. I can see every dot and wrinkle on the green Earth.

I feel a rumble under my fingertips.

As I look out on Earth, I see metal objects race through my vision and dance around me. It seems to be coming from all directions. The tumbling under my fingers gets faster as the metal hits the ship. I'm starting to shake. This metal better not hit me. The good news is that I'm on the other side, so the metal is going over and around me. I see the metal clash with the other parts of the arena and grow smaller.

They exit the area.

Before they do, I see a sliver of indigo light shimmer around the arena. So instantaneous, it might have just been my imagination. I'm starting to fall off the deep end. I need to get some grub fast.

I heave myself around the rest of the ship. Finally, I spot the bay doors with a red button on the outside.

"Hell yeah."

Now I'm talking to myself. Great.

I hang on to the side if the opening and press the button. Air rushed out from the red-lit airlock. With my swimmer's arm strength, I pull myself in and shut the door. I float aimlessly in the darkroom. The door is right in front of me. I press the next button, and I plop myself into the airlock room.

"Precious ground." I say.

I immediately strip off the spacesuit. The bulky thing take a little to wear out of. It's much easier to get out of it then inside it. I shed the suit and throw it to the side.

I let out a sigh and walk toward the door.

Just then, I hear footsteps come from behind the long table by the television. Before I can turn around, a pair of strong arms squeeze around my chest.

"How's it going, princess?" A soft, low voice says.

**Aslovee Chesed**

These sponsor bitches think they're so funny, don't they?

Crossing through space wasn't as bad as I thought. I times my leap trough space just right, and I made it to the airlock room. It was like shooting a shotgun ahead of the target in order to hit it. I'm a little surprised at how easy it went. I wasn't able to see very much out there from my focus pointed towards the door.

When I reached the opposite side, I stripped off the suit and re-equipped my swords onto my back. Then, I see a few water bottles and pieces of roast beef left on the table. It makes me want to throw up. Here we are in the middle of the Games, and people are still wasting food. What's even worse is that the place looks like a tornado ran through it with all the stuff in here. Wrappers, empty plastic bottles, and a few spacesuits are dumped onto the grey floor in the cool room.

I can't help it. I have to clear some of this stuff out. I quickly shove pieces of the leftover food in my mouth.

Hold up. What if it's poisoned?

These fuckers would probably leave this shit here just to kill somebody. It's poisoned. There's no way it could actually be out like a buffet. I've broken into a few buffets, and it's never easy to get anything. It's like a cat trying to get the cake at a birthday party. It doesn't fucking happen.

I spit out the food. However, I do see a small vial of iodine by the water. So at least I can drink that with it. Again, going hungry is nothing new. The only reason I'm not a scrawny street bitch is because I at least eat right. So when I see stuff like this, it makes me want to kill whoever left this.

Then, I hear a hum from a metal cabinet in the corner closest to the door. I go towards it. It could be some sort of shitheaded mutt or something. Maybe an alien that will attach itself to my face. My instinct is telling me to not open it. If there's one thing in the world I trust, it's my instinct.

But then it opens by itself.

Inside is a lengthy leather whip. The tip is emblazoned with a silver point, and the back has finger holds in it so it doesn't get lost to my grip. I take the whip, feeling the rough skin run through my fingers. There is a brown leather belt attached to it, with a hook on the side for strapping the whip and carrying if. I can carry the whip and release it whenever desired. Efficient, but I take a quick look at myself in the reflection of the idle television screen to make sure in at least clean.

I see myself shirtless, my two swords tucked away in their sleeves, and the belt with a whip around my slender waist.

All I need is a hat and a gun. Because I look like a fucking cowboy. I bet they're laughing at me right now.

Whatever. I couldn't give a fuck about those shitheads in Panem. Why would I get self-conscious now? I decide it's best to go. I'm assuming whoever left the room like this is out there, and I need to teach them a lesson in manners.

I exit the room and immediately raise up over the floor. I lean forward and feel my hands over the smooth grey blue wall. I move deeper into the empty ship. The silence keeps the area around me frozen in mock peace.

I start to feel just a tinge of heat and a glow by me. I'm assuming it's the inner arena. I head closer to the source, making sure to scan any open areas for people or goods.

A few more minutes. Nothing happens.

As I turn a corner, a thump comes from the door just a few feet by me. I stop and stare at the white door.

It starts to get louder.

I need to get away. I doubt I'll be as lucky as last time.

Now, it sounds like an entire mob is trying to break out. The problem is that I see the dome down the hall. If I'm going to make it to food, water, and other tributes, I'm going to have to pass by it.

I should turn around instead.

Just as I decide to go down another hall, the door breaks open.

Out comes two creatures about five inches taller than me.

The creatures are standing on two legs. Their eyes are minuscule, bright yellow like a lantern. They are bald, and their mouth seemed curled in like they have no teeth. But they have teeth. They are sharp, shark-like canines. They're skin is completely grey, and their muscles are running over their skin. It seems like their bodies have been turned inside out, otherwise the skin would probably be smooth. The creatures are moaning and an occasional scream comes from them. They seem scared, angry, or confused.

Regardless, they're hungry.

The ten or so creatures bolt out of the room, coming in a swirl of bodies towards me. Their bony hands are outstretched with palms outstretched towards me.

I know I can't take all of them. I have to get out of here.

I barrel down the hallway, ducking and dodging with every snap of the mutts on my feet. The cool air drys my eyes as I hurry faster down the corridor. I make a left and start to head down the other hall.

Except the hallway ends there. I turn and see the heap of bodies rush in front of me.

I'm cornered. Every fiber of my being is telling me that I am helpless.

I'm not going to be helpless. I've never been helpless. I will not start now.

The entire pack lunges forward at me. I propel myself off the floor to where my knees are at their eye level. I take my swords and shunt them into the head of the first two in front. With black blood spewing, I unsheathe the swords as the fall to the ground in pain. The others swell up behind them, meeting me in the air. One comes at me from in front. Two others fly in, colliding with me on both sides. I spin with my swords at my sides. The blades cut into them and knock them away leaving me to kick the one in front of me away. A claw reaches out for me and grazes the side of my chest.

A stinging pain dribbles trough the cuts. I gasp. The cuts seem almost acidic, burning into my skin. The force of the hit makes me fly back, and I bang into the porthole on the wall. The pack pushes further, now twelve strong.

I take a quick breathe.

These fuckers are not going to get to my nerves.

A split second overview, and I notice that the other two are covering the back of their necks. Not the part I stabbed, but their necks. They are injured, but not dying. I can't believe it. I did get them in their brains. Unless these aren't their brains.

I duck down over the scrum. Most if them rush over me. The ones in the back notice me diving and try to redirect their attack. Sadly for them, they can't just turn around in zero gravity. I avoid the protracting claws and stab the two on the ground in the necks. They stop squirming immediately. I get it now. I propel myself forward with the swords and dislodge them. Before the others hovering over the wall can turn around, I slash one at the nape of the neck. The mutt goes limp with the flash of my sword. They start to turn around, but I collect another before the rebound off the wall.

I crash into another, this time punching it behind its head. Two others try to converge on my from the side, but I grab the one I punched by its head and kick off the wall, racing past the others. With the slice of the shining metal, the creature goes limp in my arms.

Tossing it aside, I twirl in the air with my swords outstretched and cut into three other mutts stomachs. They writhe in mid-air. The rush of the others pushes me back, and one grabs me by the head. It howls at me, it's teeth bare and pointed at my face. I see the inside of its mouth when it tries to snap at me.

We somersault in the air, rolling over and under down the corridor with the rest of the screaming mutts following. I'm done playing around. As we spin, I shank the blade into its throat and punch it through to the other side. The sword stays stuck in its throat. I take my leg and kick it away, sliding my sword out.

With the other three injured, I kick two of them over and cut their weak spots.

Again, two away.

I spin back around and face the last uninjured one.

It screams at me.

A little unsettling. The scream sounded to human, too familiar. In fact, it sounded like that guy that popped out of that room.

Wait.

Did he say my name?

Who cares?

I lunge forward and stab it in the chest and face. We fly towards the wall and crash into it. The screaming continues, and some more blood sputters out. Black droplets of it float in mid-air. When I turn around, the whole area has dead bodies floating with the ink-like substance, like rain frozen in free fall. I punch the creature and take out the swords. Pushing it to the ground, my arms raise up, and I'm about to swing down on its neck. It raises it's hand at me, trying to shield itself. I blink. My eyes must be playing tricks in me. Right where the creature was cowering, that same man from before took its place. He has gash wounds in the same spots, be he certainly looks human. His eyes are red with tears.

"You can't do this to your parents, son." He shouted.

With a blank stare, I clean the guy out of existence. Literally. Just like last time, the moment I stab him, he disappears like a mirage. I turn around.

This time, there is a woman in a white dress. She has dark brown hair that flows down to her shoulders. She has a heart shaped face, and her thin frame is struggling to hold on to one of the pipes in order to right herself. She pants, and looks up at me. Her eyes are no longer yellow, but black like that guys. And like my own.

"Don't you love us son? When you come home, you won't have to be alone anymore."

I hover towards her while dodging the dead mutts around me. She smiles at me, her face growing pale.

"You can meet us, and you won't ever be alone again. You'll never have to survive. Instead, you will liv-."

The sword makes her disappear again.

These aren't my real parents. No way they can be. Even if they were, how would I know? They could have made up any shithead and plug them in as my parents. If they are, why should I care?

The fuckers are messing with me. I've never cared about parents, and I never will. I won't be brought down with this. Because I don't give a shit about them. If they think it will be that easy to take me out, those cunts have another thing coming. And what's that whole thing about being lonely? I've been alone, but that shouldn't matter. How would I know what lonely feels if I've been alone my whole life? No. I'm a survivor. I will make it out by doing what I do best.

End of story.

Although, my swords are splattered with some black blood. As well as my body and pants.

"Fuck. I need new clothes badly."

**Romeo Caliteo  
**  
Paige turns around and hops back. She tries to reach for the door, but I slam my hands on it, blocking her from reaching the keypad.

"Don't worry. I locked it with a code, so we have plenty of time to have some fun." I say, grinning.

She smiles nervously. "Uh...I-I...Romeo! You're doing good today."

"And you look delicious today. How about I get a taste?"

She sinks a little lower in front of me. "Actually, I'll save you the trouble. I probably taste like sweat."

As if Paige couldn't be anymore annoying. I need to get my job done sooner or I'll lose my patience. "Don't be stupid. All woman taste amazing."

With that, I crash my lips onto hers. She was right. She does taste quite salty. Then again, us District Four men are used to salt. I shove my tongue into her mouth, and she tried to wrestle away from my grasp. I take my arms and pin her wrists to the wall. She tries to move her head away, so I press further into the kiss. She moans out, apparently from pain or fear. But I'm not going to be fettered that easily.

"Sounds like you like this." I say when I pull back.

She gasps for air. "No, I was...screaming."

"I'll make you scream harder in a second."

She struggles harder. I place my feet on her toes, stopping her from kicking me. "You're being rough. You said you're not supposed to be rough with girls."

She's trying to appeal to my gentleman side. I guess she's trying to shock me back to a previous state. When I was weaker. "I thought girls liked a little thrill once in a while. At least, that's what the last one told me."

"Satine doesn't speak for any girl. She was just a whore. Some women are like tha-."

I slam my hand into her face and she falls to the ground whimpering. I stand over her, my smile not wavering. "Some women? Then I guess every girl I've ever met was 'some women.' And you're no different."

She groans. "Yes I am. I'm sorry about her, but I'm not Satine. And you're no better sleeping with her in the fir-."

I slam my foot into her side, making her shout. She cringes and rolls up into a ball. I think she is even starting to cry. Why don't I feel fulfilled about this. This is my revenge, but I don't feel that much better. Although I do know what will feel better.

I lean down over Paige and get on my hands and knees over her. I sit her up on the wall and reach down to the waistband of her shirt.

"No...please don't."

Just then, she grimaces in pain again. I look down at the spot I rested my hand on. There are three wounds ripped into her leg.

Shit. I forgot all about those arrows.

My plan is ruined now.

"That's a real shame. I really wanted to make you feel good. It seems that everyone does when they get a piece of me."

"We can still do this Romeo. We can team up. One of is can go home."

Is she insane? I grab her by the collar and lift her to her shaking feet. I slam her back to the wall. "You think I care? I've already slept with all those girls. Don't you think I should get some variety? All of them are the same in Four. And all of them are the same everywhere. I'm not going to spend my life being a cock for others. From now one, you all better watch out, because you're going to get what's coming to you. Literally. Well, not for you. Sorry," I say, going to the place I hid and getting my mace. "But since you were previously hurt, you're not quite pure enough for me."

"Trust me," she gasps. "I don't think anybody will be saving themselves for you, motherfucker."

I know she just meant it as a curse, but the double meaning behind that infuriates me. She shouldn't know about my incestuous family, but I need to make sure regardless.

With two smashes to her head, a cannon rings.

Now, there are four women left. I think the two younger ones I can just straight up kill. No need for hassle. They may not understand, anyway. However, there is one I'm looking for in particular. The one that shot those arrows into my chances of getting laid. Otherwise, I would be showing Paige just what kind of man I am.

I believe it is Venus Whitmore. Her whore teammate, Eva-Marie should be with her. Who knows? Maybe she'll cooperate and join in before I slice their heads out. Both of them are equally instrumental in my epiphany anyway. If it wasn't for them, the Careers might still be intact. But Venus did ruin this opportunity with Paige, so Eva-Marie must sadly miss out on the ride of her life.

I think it's time I go and thank Venus.

* * *

**Anyone else think Cowboy Aslovee would be both hilarious and epic? Let me know?**

**Question: How far would you go with a member of the opposite sex to win the Games?**

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**Thank you and if you have any suggestions or ideas about the next Games, let me know!**


	48. Day 4: Crowded Solitude

**Xavier Thomas**

I've noticed that Monette is sticking closer towards me as of late. She shadows my left leg. Her hands clench the straps of the camouflage backpack she has on. I think I may have made her nervous when I argued with Cyrene. She might have the same idea I had about her planning something bad.

I don't think she would. I was just looking out Monette's safety. Cyrene is too nice of a girl. I know there can be bad people, but you can see that in them. Somebody as kind looking as Cyrene couldn't be bad. There is no way.

She is the type of person I am protecting. There is no way she could turn on us.

The sun in the black sky is sweltering. It's not too bad for me. I'm used to be being out in these fields. They were hard times for me, but I did it. Everyday, I braved those fields and did the work nobody else would do. Picking, sewing, spicking, and anything involving the clay dirt was my best friend along with those whipping guys on the horses.

Its fitting that I'd end up in a giant field pounded on by the sun.

I don't hate anybody at home. I know those whippers were just doing their job. I think that's what a lot of people are like. They are just trying to make ends meet. Even the peacekeepers, I can get. They are just as scared as we are about all that has happened in the past two years, especially in District Eleven. I still can't say the name "Rue" without getting publicly beaten. Heck, the Capitol forces anyone named that in District Eleven to change their names. My neighbor is Debra now.

We have been walking for a good hour now. The sun is directly overhead. Monette is starting to drag her feet. Cyrene still walks onward with her head held high.

"I think I see it over there," She says, pointing in the distance while shielding her eyes.

I squint and look at the horizon. Sure enough, a yellow gleam sparkled just a few thousand yards away.

Monette sets down her backpack and reaches for a bottle of water. She pulls it out. Cyrene turns around and raises an eyebrow.

"Hold it in your mouth."

Monette swallows and tilts her head.

"If you hold the water in your mouth instead of swallowing, you'll stay hydrated. There were some people a long time ago that had to deliver things miles over deserts. That's how they stayed hydrated."

She turns around and heads out.

I don't want to say that me and Monette would be nowhere without her, but I can't imagine doing anything except hiding and running. Now, we have purpose.

We trudge through the last few minutes and make it to the cornucopia. It is identical to the mirror one at the Bloodbath, but it matches the yellow sand instead of silver. The opening leaves shade from the sun, and covers our goals in darkness.

It's a sight to behold. Small boxes of food are stacked around the entire inside. Jugs of water sit in the middle, waiting for our parched lips to kiss it. It's an absolute feast, and we can take it all.

It seems too easy, but I want take it for granted.

There are two large boxes in the middle of all of it. Two notes are stuck on them. Cyrene moves forward to the cardboard boxes.

"Monette, this one is for you."

Monette walks over to the box and opens it. She reaches down and buries her arm in the box.

When she pulls it out, I gasp. It's another light saber. This one is purple.

"Careful. It's hot." I say.

Monette slips the handle into her backpack.

"I'm glad you have something to protect yourself, since somebody got me this."

Cyrene pulls out a silver fabric. It seems around her size. She drops her light saber and slips on her grey jumpsuit.

"It's another jumpsuit," I say.

Cyrene smiles. She takes her light saber and throws it towards me. "Hit me."

"Are you crazy?"

"Just do it. Turn it on and hit me."

I look at the handle for a few seconds. I know Cyrene is too smart t have gone off the edge so quickly. I have to trust her here.

I turn on the sword. The blade shoots out. The heat surrounds my hands, and the smallest of vibrations shakes my hand. I grimace and look at Cyrene. She motions with her hands to continue.

"Go ahead."

I swing it at her chest.

The blade collides with the silver jumpsuit and repels off it. Right at the moment of impact, it transformed into solid from its loose fabric state. The suit was like a mosquito net for weapons. A small burn Mark appears on the impact area, and Cyrene laughs.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" She says.

She pulls out the top that goes with it. It's a matching ski-mask like head covering with two slits instead of holes. One for the eyes, and the other for the mouth. She looks like a warrior with the dark jumpsuit, head covering, and sword.

"I bet I look like a ninja," she says.

"A what?"

"Nothing. Let's just rest for a second. Then, we'll start to take some of this stuff back. We're going to need it when we get back."

It's good that Cyrene is staying vague with her plan. If anybody even got a whiff of what we are about to do, none of us would be alive.

With her, my strength, and Monette, we can beat these Games. I hope my trust is not in vain.

**Venus Whitmore**

I'm moving down the hallway at a slow pace. Eva is right behind me. She seems so downtrodden and sad. Aaron hit her much harder than I think she knows. Every time I ask her, she denies it and says that it's just from the lack of food and water.

I think that she is less afraid of dying and more afraid of not living up to what Aaron set her out to do. It makes me feel awkward, which I know is selfish because she is the one suffering.

What I'm also worried about is my home. My main goal was to help regain sympathy for Twelve so we can have a better future. I don't think I've done enough. I've talked a little about it, but I don't think many people are going to pay attention to the terrible conditions there. Granted, Katniss brought attention, but it wasn't for the well-being of her home. Instead, it was to fit her own needs. Is there a way I could make Eva cheer up and vamp my home?

"My dad died when I turned seven."

I turn and look at Eva.

She stops, examining me with her green eyes.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" She asks.

I sigh. "I want you to know that you aren't alone."

"I'm not stupid. I know I'm not the first person to lose somebody. Hell, you've probably had it worse than me. At least I knew the chances of this happening were good."

"Dying in District Twelve is pretty commonplace, though. People die of starvation all the time. Not to mention, the coal mines."

I figure that if I'm going to help Eva, I might as well help my home as well. I know that if I don't make it out of here, I need to gain sympathy for Twelve so it can shine bright again. Or at least it can now.

Eva probably doesn't know how to respond. She keeps opening and closing her mouth. I'm not sure why I'm even doing this. If I was a worthy tribute, I would have shot her in the head the moment she started to cry. I think I feel a connection with her. It's a morbid one. One or even both of us might be the last humans we ever make contact with. Being in space makes that even more of a possibility.

"Can I ask if it felt like this?" She asks.

"Maybe. Different people act in different ways. It was probably harder on my mom. How would I tell my own kids that their dad wasn't coming home again? I think I cried for a week straight."

Showing weakness in the Games isn't smart, but I think I can reach people if I show I have emotion. People like honest winners, not lunatics.

"How did you get over it?"

I chuckle. "Remember how I said I night have gone to the Seam a few times? Well, there is this small field about a mile away from the electric fence we can't go past. It was winter, and I decided to go out there. He would teach me how to shoot a bow and arrow there. When I went that day, I saw the entire landscape in front of me. It was nothing but pure white. Not the slushy muck on the sidewalk, but clean and pure. I thought it looked like a giant pillow. I went into the middle, and I sunk into the snow on my back. The only things I heard were the wind and the snow crushed around me. The snow came down from the clouds, and it tickled me whenever it hit my face. Seeing all of them, I realized just how many there were. I thought there were more snowflakes then there were people in Twelve. For a seven year old, that's a big thought."

Eva grunted. "I barely thought about anything when I was seven. Just some toys, my twin sister, and messing with Aaron."

"It made me realize just how small I felt. Then, I figured that everyone must feel that way. Even if your six feet tall an eighty, you're still just one person. But one person can do so much for so many. I felt happier that day, because I knew that there were people in the same boat as me. We are just trying to live together down on Earth, and there is so much to explore and to create. Since then, I wanted to do everything I could to save Twelve and make it amazing like it should be."

"But somebody already tried that."

I shake my head. "No, she was doing it for herself. Me? I'm doing this for my District. It's time people looked at the world and realized where they fit, and just how much it has to offer. My sisters deserve a better world, and I can give them that."

I think that may have done enough. Eva looks considerably better, and I'm sure the message got to some Capitol people. Some say they are easily swayed, but I don't know about that.

"Are you afraid of being alone?" I ask her.

She nods.

Silence.

What can I say to that? This is the most she has opened up to almost anybody, and I've done most of the talking.

"You won't be."

"Are you afraid of there being nothing else?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like what if you're wrong? There isn't anything left to see or to create. Everything that can be done has been."

"So like there's no hope for the world?"

"Yup. All tracks have been covered, and every secret of the world has been revealed."

I smile. "Don't worry. My imagination will fill in the blanks."

Eva rolls her eyes and punches me on the shoulder.

**Aslovee Chesed**

You've got to be fucking kidding me.

When I heard the thump behind me, I spun around and unsheathe my swords. It turned out to b a sponsor gift, so I breathed a little easier. I should stop being so high-strung.

I walk over to the white box. I hope it's something useful like food or, I don't know, water.

I kick the lid off.

It's a cowboy hat.

I flip off the sky above me, sure that there is some camera capturing this. Somebody must be dying from laughter, because I can hear the chortling of those pigs to space.

There is also a bandage for my cut from those fuckers from a few hours ago. It doesn't seem to bother me, but it's the thought that counts.

That being said, my head is getting really hot.

I hate sweating like this. Feeling the salt drops drop from my hair makes me cringe.

I'll sweat anyway, but I could control it one way.

I'm never forgiving myself for wearing this hat.

I place it on my head. It's a perfect fit. Thanks, Capitol cunts. I'm living the dream of thousands of young boys. Not being in the Games an achieving riches and glory. No, I am living the dream of being a cowboy. If those Capitol girls aren't drooling now, they'll probably choke on their own spit any minute. I wouldn't be surprised if they put up posters of me already.

I need to take a bath in the next few seconds. The sweat makes me smell worse, and I'm worried I might get sunburnt. That would be uncomfortable to fight to the death with that.

I know that there has to be someone here. After fighting the shitheads and breaking into this place, I crossed around in a circle, spiraling in towards the center. That way, If I'm being followed, I can see well before they make it to the center. Also, I can spit any fucker that thinks they can get the jump on me. One eye shut, and one eye open. Lo and behold, I crossed footsteps. Now, I have to sneak around behind them and strike. If I can. If it's the other six tributes who all decided to gang up on me, I guess I'll have to run. Not without some of their goods.

I wonder what the feeling is like back in Nine. I'm sure some of those rich pussies I've had to fight are trying to slander me. Some fellow street rats might be cheering me on. Everybody else is scratching their heads and wondering who the fuck this kid is.

Another thing I got was this weird glowing sword thing. I think it's used to burn things, so maybe I can try and start a fire. Fire in space. I wonder how that would turn out?

Fortunately, my belt has a holster. I'm assuming it was for a gun, but the retractable weapon locks in fine. It seems too specific of a weapon. It's almost like this is supposed to be used during something specific. Other than slaughtering things. An orchestrated event, maybe?

I walk through the barrage of heat. The hat is doing a good job of shading my face and bare neck. Maybe this worked as a practical fashion choice as well. I doubt whoever sent this thought about it, though.

Why do these bitches keep reminding me about my parents? They really are trying to push this whole thing as a tragic story, aren't they. I think it's stupid. What would these idiots know about me? There isn't anything to know. According to the District records, I'm as anonymous as you can be without being invisible. Hell, the only reason they keep my name at all is because I'm sixteen and ripe for reaping. Ripe for reaping. That should be a phrase used from now on.

They must be trying to make me lonely. They want me to plead with needing human contact. Again, I've been away from human contact my whole life. And the contact I normally receive involves bloody knuckles and an exchange in fresh pears or coins. Yes, coins. I like to buy things honestly when I can.

Whatever. As long as I deal with actual humans and not those things they throw at everyone, I'll be okay. Okay, I was extra cautious in space, but that is necessary. I can be normally cautious now since I'm in here, and that makes me much more comfortable.

Just then, I hear a laugh. I peer forward. A sparkle of light dots the horizon of the bright day in the dark sky. I slowly walk closer. About ten minutes away is a trio of people. The big black guy and two smaller ones.

I have to plan this out carefully. Three on one is not a good place to be in. What I have to do is sneak behind them, take out the large one, then handle the smaller two. Or I can take out the other two since the big guy is probably very slow. Maybe I should do neither and simply steal their stuff.

No, the Capitol idiots wouldn't let this opportunity slip away.

I know this because I see a glow in the distance. It's another of those glowing swords.

If I'm going to fight them, might as well pull this hat down a little more.

I feel so fucking stupid.

* * *

**Oh, boy. Aslovee and Cyrene/Xavier/Monette are going to fight? And what about Romeo? Who is he going to come across and when?**

**Did Cowboy Aslovee live up to your wet dreams? You have the sponsor to thank for that, by the way.**

**Did Venus inspire you to go out and live your lives the way you want to or something like that?**

**Finally, is Cyrene a ninja?**

**I apologize for forgetting Paige's Eulogy. I will go back and repost the chapter to include it.**

**Any suggestions or** **ideas for this SYOT and** **the next are appreciated. See you soon**!


	49. Day 4: Broken Vengeance

**Eva-Marie Green**

It doesn't take us very long to make it to the center of the ship.

When we reach the glass dome, Venus shoots an arrow at the glass. It lodges into the cold surface, leaving curved cracks around the impact. We kick it away, and the glass shatter into the dome. We climb inside.

The inside is just a small room. It's most likely about fifty feet to the cornucopia. Separating us from it is a narrow walkway. It is suspended over darkness. There are eight other paths leading to the center. In the middle is a circular platform lit by the faint glow of the moon. There are backpacks, small weapons, and even a few first aid kits scattered on the platform.

Venus walks with the deliberateness of a sneaking robber in a house. The walkway is only about two feet in width. Looking down at the sides, there is nothing but darkness. It must be a long fall.

Venus gasps. I look up.

"What is i-."

"Shh." She says while pointing at her reason for surprise.

At the entrance to the walkway, shards of glass coat the ground by the hole in the dome.

Somebody has been here before.

Venus must be worried that this person or thing must be hiding behind some of the objects on the center platform.

She walks slower. Her bow is stretched back, and her weapon points towards the platform. I take out my second to last knife, and cock my elbow while holding the knife to my head, ready to strike.

Another few steps.

Silence.

The only echo is our shoes clanking onto the metal walkway.

The platform comes closer.

We sneak slower.

Toe first, then heel. That's a trick I learned in stealth class at Seven.

That training center is great. It's the best thing to happen to me besides Aaron. When I get back, maybe I can dedicate something to him. His parents will love that. Our impact will last forever for District Seven. Maybe I can make a difference. Not quite like Johanna, but like what Venus said.

I can thank her for pulling me through Aaron's death. I probably would have taken much longer to get back out and fight for him. Actually, I'm a little jealous. She's doing it for her District. I'm just doing this for myself and that rude boy I met at that ice cream place.

We're twenty feet away.

Our steps have gotten slower.

Fifteen feet.

Venus stops breathing.

Ten feet.

That's when I feel him.

Two hands shove me to the side. I yell as I topple towards the edge.

My feet fall first.

I grab onto he ledge and halt my fall. My legs are dangling over the darkness like the chandelier in my house.

My home. My family is watching right now.

I try to lift myself up, but two pairs of feet skid past me backwards. A bow and arrow is sitting on the ground, snapped and useless. I look towards the two people above me.

Venus is struggling and wrestling herself from a tight hold around her chest. She is groaning and shouting, but the human straight jacket is unyielding. With another arm, a knife is pressed into her throat.

Romeo Caliteo laughs.

"Relax, sweetie."

I try to lift myself up, but Romeo slams his foot on me. I scream.

He chuckled softly.

"Usually I have to wait until we get in the room for a girl to scream. You must be a masochist."

He puts another shoe on my hand.

"It's simple, babe. You can throw away your knives, climb up, and we all can have some fun. It's always been a dream of mine, anyway." He says.

"It's not worth your dignity." Venus shouts.

Just then, Romeo pulls out a syringe and stabs it into Venus's arm. She cringes in pain, then her gasping stops. Her eyes droop, and her body melts into Romeo's arms.

I can't believe I just thought about it that way.

"I should have done that a few seconds ago," he says. He throws Venus to the ground next to him. Then, he crouches down in front of me. His feet press harder into my tiring hands.

"I'm sorry about your friend. Me and him are kind of alike in a way. Always used by you. Always abused by you. I'm sure a part of him would want me to kill you. I bet he really hated you deep down."

"No. I didn't abuse him. He was a real man, unlike you."

He frowns. "So what does that make me, princess? I thought girls like a gentleman. Somebody that you can all run over and use as your personal slaves. Doesn't that make you happy, princess?"

I can't listen to him. Aaron never thought that way about me. This guy is insane. Simple as that.

He stands back up. His frown drying constant as he looks down at me. "Last chance, beautiful. I can give you one last thing to feel good about. It would benefit both of us."

I spit by his feet.

He kicks me in the head.

The pain makes me see nothing but white and red swirling in my vision. It pales in comparison to my fear of falling. I feel weightless as the air rushes past me. I scream. I'm a rock falling off a cliff, and there is no ground in sight.

Suddenly, the entire area turns on its side.

Romeo topples over and falls onto the walkway. A horrendous roar silenced the whistling around my ears.

At that moment, I start to fall towards the side instead of down.

It's like a magnet attracted me towards the wall, stopping my fall. The floor becomes the side of the dome. My back crashes into the wall below the glass. Romeo and Venus fall into the glass dome and disappear out of the cornucopia.

I lay on my back. I've been saved from falling down.

Regardless, all the objects on the platform race to the side and break through the glass also. It's like a twister is sucking everything out of the dome.

The entire arena must have just moved and flipped itself. I feel like I'm on a boat that just tilted, and now I'm at the mercy of its next move.

I can't waste time. I stand up on the wall and start to walk up. When I reach the glass, I stand on it, careful not to fall down the hallway. This is the oddest sensation. The whole ship has tilted over, and the gravity seems to be pulling us to the side we entered from.

I hop through the hole. Before I fall down the corridor, I grab onto the wall. The floor is now the right wall, and the new floor is the left wall. This is insane to wrap my head around. Everything has turned ninety degrees in just a few seconds.

The ground keeps shaking. The arena is still moving. I wouldn't be surprised if I started to walk on the ceiling in a few seconds.

What's worse is that Romeo and Venus are nowhere to be seen.

**Cyrene Polymer**

We have sat at the cornucopia for a few hours now. We drank plenty of water. My mind keeps racing for the next step. I expect my plan to take effect tonight. We need to rest up anyway. If this plan works, we are going to need a lot of food.

I'm scared out of my wits about escaping to Earth. I don't know how we'll exactly find civilization once we land. Not only that, but I'm not even sure how to land.

I keep noticing a rumbling every hour. It's from that space debris that keeps coming in. If there is a force field, it is off during that period to let the debris in. I felt that last rumble about ten minutes ago, so we should be able to reach the airlock room in time for the next opening.

I stand up from the jug of water. "We should head out. Let's roll the barrels"

"What about the boxes?" Xavier asks.

"Take all the cans possible in the backpacks. Real food probably won't help us."

We load up the food and start to roll the water over the sand.

Just then, Monette flinches and turns around at me. She puts her hand to her lips and points behind. I whip around.

The Cornucopia looks fine.

"Is something behind it?" I whisper.

Monette nods.

"A person?"

She nods again.

"How many?"

She raises a finger.

"Okay. You two need to keep going with these. We don't know who this person is. We cannot let them get this stuff. We don't know how long we'll have to hold out where we'll be. Since I have the body armor, I'll hold this guy off. You two stay hidden and make as much distance between us as you can."

"I'll help fight." Xavier says.

"You can't. You need to make sure this gets where it needs to go. I'm the only one with armor. And no offense, but you're not very fast and Monette can't fight. Keep packing. We can't waste any more time."

"And you can?"

Can what?"

"Fight."

"I'm not saying that. Fine. Stay hidden. I'll try to lure whoever it it's to the front here, and we can ambush him."

"Good."

"Stay as close to the back of the inside as you can. I'll go around and meet whoever this is."

Im not too worried about who it is. I have this body armor and a weapon. I can't physically do much, but I. Think I have the upper hand in this situation. Worse case scenario, the other person finds a kink in the armor and I yell for help.

I just have to stall for Xavier and Monette to finish packing. Then, we can get out of here for good.

I round the cornucopia and see the person. He stops in his tracks.

I can't help but grin a little bit at this scene. Here I am, in the middle of a space desert, dressed in a black suit and ski-mask with my light saber in hand. In front of me is a shirtless guy about three inches taller than me with two swords in hand and a cowboy hat on his head. I think it's Aslovee from District Nine.

"Listen up. We're getting ready to do something that could help all of us. I'm giving you one chance to drop the swords and join us."

His black eyes peer at me from the shade of his hat.

"You don't know what your doing. We can help you."

His stony expression stays continuous.

He isn't going to give in. The grip on his two swords is holding strong. I sigh. My nerves are starting to shake a little bit. I can't he easily rattled. I need to keep calm and collect my emotions. Be as stoic as he is. Give him something to fear.

I doubt I'll be able to do that last part. The point is that, as long as I believe that I can be the cool fighter, I can wear him out until Xavier and Monette are ready to leave. He won't fight three on one.

I press the button on my handle. The neon blade shoots out beside me.

He spin back his swords. The metal gleams in the late sun.

I slow my breathing. I'm so close to escaping. I don't care about killing him. All we need to do is get him to go away by some means.

Wait a second. What's that thing coming into view?

I can't believe what I am seeing.

A tumbleweed just rolled between us.

**Romeo Caliteo**

It's a weird feeling, standing on the wall. Whoever turned the arena this way is a borderline genius. I need to thank them for separating me from Eva-Marie.

That have me plenty of time to drag Venus's body to a room and tie her hands and legs up. She seems fine from her little tumble. I was able to catch her before we fell down the hallway.

I'm glad she doesn't have any real injuries. That was the reason I couldn't get my full revenge on Paige. I can show all of Panem what they turn men into. I'll show them what people are forced to do to be real men.

I stab the needle into her arm. Her eyes shoot open, and she huffs for air. Venus life herself up, and leans back on the wall. I smile.

"Good evening, sweetheart. Enjoy your nap?"

She tries to wiggle out of the rope. I move closer to her. She is shorter than me, so I lower my head and lift her chin up.

"You probably woke up from the poison I just injected in you. That platform had a lot of interesting stuff. Do you know the different kinds of poisons? I heard women like educated men."

I lean in closer to her face. Our breath is clashing with each other. Her blue eyes show my reflection. I'm grinning wider, and I think my eye just twitched. The problem I have is that her eyes aren't filled with fear. It's a mixture between anger and...pity? Sadness?

It's pissing me off even more. I have to be more controlled in order to get what I want. My objective is near.

"I bet you don't know what Shakespeare is? Those schools in Twelve probably don't teach you that. Well, he was a guy from a really long time ago. He lived in an age where men and women weren't equal. Believe it or not, it was actually a really good time. So much art and invention came that we love to this day. Now, I was named after a character from a play called 'Romeo and Juliet.' Romeo was a hopeless romantic who fell in love with Juliet. Long story short, they both die in the end. Why? Well, Romeo was pretty stupid. He followed Juliet to death. I was just like him. I was ready to do the same."

"Romeo, you don't have to be remembered like this." She says.

"I will say that Sir William did get one thing right. Love is as good as being six feet under. You see, I was wrong about love, because I never felt love. What humans are addicted to isn't love, but lust. I was stupid. And Venus, you sexy slut, will get to be the first of every girl in the world to realize just how primal humans actually are."

"Don't be like this. Do you really want to be remembered like this? What about your family? Don't you want to be remembered with pride?

I roll my eyes. "Please. My family is the reason why I realized this. You inbred folks at Twelve are used to this, but my older brother had special ties with my mom, if you know what I mean. Lust spreads to all people."

"Twelve is a hell of a lot better than that." She says, surprising me with her outburst. "And your family doesn't have to define you. You define yourself."

I take her head and mash my lips to hers. She struggles to get away, moaning frantically while I attack her mouth. I breath loudly, smacking her lips harder with every collision.

After a good ten seconds, I pull away.

"I've already been defined. It's time you cunts learned a lesson. Going back to Shakespeare, there are many quotes I could use here, but I think I have the perfect one. Women love sweet nothings, right?"

I lean over to her ear. "If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die?"

I pause and lean back.

"And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?"

She breathes faster and continues to struggle in the ropes. I chuckle again.

I stand back a little bit from her. "So, for every man, there's a woman, right? For every poison, there's an antidote. I have the antidote to your little dilemma. You have about twenty minutes, so we better be quick if you want a shot at living. You said you'd do anything for your District, huh? In that case, my request shouldn't be a problem."

"On your knees, bitch." I've always wanted to say that. I smack her on the top of her head, making her collapse to the ground.

I fumble with the waistband of my pants. "Now you're going to suck me off like a good little bitch."

"Never," she shouts.

I smack her. "Shut up. Now hurry up. Time's a'wasting as you all say in Twelve. And don't try anything funny or I'll fuck your brains out."

This is it. My ultimate revenge. For all those women that ever hurt me, I will show them what the have driven me to.

If it wasn't for the knife in my back.

The door opens and I fall onto the wall. I turn around. That whore from Seven is here to play hero.

I heave myself up with all my might, seeing my mace right next to me. I growl and reach for it. Then, Venus propels herself sideways and falls on my back. The knife digs further into me. I roar out as Eva-Marie pushes Venus off me and tries to take my mace away. I yank it out I her clutches. I lift up and start to slam it down.

The entire room turns red. A loud siren cuts through the shouting in the small space.

A voice repeats, "Incoming."

The buzzing blares through every inch of the ship. The red lights shine faster, whirring like the lights on a fire truck.

The spaceship turns again.

I fall backwards out of the room. The knife is still lodge in my back. The hallway screams last me as my descent gets faster.

Venus and Eva-Marie are still in the room. I missed my chance.

I hurtle faster and faster down the hallway.

I can't believe it. Just when I was going to get my justice, the Gamemakers had to intervene.

Why does that robotic voice keep saying that? What is incoming? A meteor. Another ship? Aliens?

I look behind me. There is another hallway jutting out from my free fall. If I can stop myself, I should be able to climb up.

I grab onto the wall of an intersecting corridor. Climbing up , the world seems right side up as I lay on what was the left wall but is now the floor I'm standing on.

Then, the world rights itself.

I fall onto the original floor on my side. The wind is still knocked out of me like I was punched in the gut.

Right down the hall is the airlock room.

The crawl takes an eternity. I claw towards the door. My back is bearing unbelievable pain, the adrenaline is still pumping through me, and I feel weaker than ever. Most of all, I feel like my entire plan has gone for naught.

I make it into the airlock room and look up at the television. It is turned on.

On the screen is a burning meteor heading straight towards us.

In about two hours.

* * *

**No, the Games won't end in two hours, but someone's life will. **

**Will Venus make it out? **

**Will Romeo survive his injuries any longer? **

**Who will win the battle between Cyrene and Aslovee? I almost want someone to make fan art of ninja Cyrene and Cowboy Aslovee. Who do you want to win? ****Nobody could have predicted that. **

**This is going to be very interesting. Stay with us.**

**Kill Count**

Aslovee Chesed (District 9)-4

Who knew Nine had it in them? And he killed his own District partner? Too bad Sirch had to go against a swordsman. And I wonder why he was so slow on killing in that last situation.

Slate Bedford (District 2)-2

If there was a Career stereotype, she must be it. Good riddance.

Glint Mugg (District 1)-2

He almost seems to nice to kill. Oh well. A Career killing another Career. That's new. Maybe.

Eva-Marie Green (District 7)-1

Even Johanna had to start somewhere.

Romeo Caliteo (District 4)-3

He touched the trident last before it pierced her, so it is technically his kill. Figures. Hope he doesn't get too maniacal, though.

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	50. The Greatest Possible Escape

**Aslovee Chesed**

We stand and stare at each other. Five's eyes narrow in the eyeholes on her ski-mask. She seems cool and content in her position. It surprises me a little bit. A little girl like that is completely fine. Maybe she is trying to hide her fears. I see it from the tight grip on her light saber.

When I was younger, I was like that. My composure was shaky, but hell if I let anybody know that. Now, I don't have to pretend anymore. I am strong. For real this time.

I remember walking past a lawyer one day. That shithead was talking to a client, and he told the client that he wanted to speak last in court. The reason was because he wanted to judge what he would have to do in order to beat the opposing argument and win the case.

I'm waiting for Cyrene to make the dirt move. When people are nervous, they are trigger happy.

Come on. Do something.

She stands her ground.

More silence.

Then, the crunching of sand comes from her feet.

She charges at me with light saber in hand. It is raised at her shoulder for quick swinging. She runs faster towards me. Although she isn't particularly fast. I take a step forward and lunge at her.

She swings the blade at my head.

This is where my height comes into play. It makes me hard to catch. I duck underneath her swing. Her momentum keeps her moving right past me. I stick out my leg and swing it at her legs. She falls over behind me.

When I turn around, she flips herself face up. I jab my sword down at her chest. She takes her weapon and nicks the sword, causing it to deflect away from her chest. I raise it up again. However, I notice a small nick and burn Mark in the blade. The light saber burned off part of the metal.

A spark of anger blows inside me, but I immediately extinguish it. I can't let my emotions control the fight.

She rolls over and gets back on her feet. Some sand sticks to her jumpsuit and glistens from the sunlight positioned in the black sky.

I place my swords back into their sleeves on my back. I flip the handle out of my holster and turn on the light saber. The hum of the blade meets the heat tickling my hand.

Five pivots on her foot and charges at me again. I step backwards, rearing for her swing at my side. She whips the light saber around. I take my saber vertically and meet her strike. The humming grows louder with the hit, and sparks fly from the impact of our meeting blades. I push forward with all my might, and she leaps back as far as she can. I head forward. I lunge ahead and swing at her waist. She leans her saber down to block. She doesn't know that it's a fake out. At the last second, I yank the blade up and to the right. It stabs right at her chest.

The saber bounces right back at me.

I just stabbed the girl in the chest. How the fuck does it just bounce away like I hit a force field. This must be some sort of special body armor.

Regardless, I need to keep moving forward. There has to be a weak point like those mutts had.

I go for her legs again. The saber reaches down for her feet. She hops over, but I graze the side of her shoe. It burned a small hole, but she seems fine.

Our swords collide again. We continue to round the cornucopia. Why is she doing that? She isn't alone, right? She must be luring me into a trap. I can just feel my gut telling me. I need to stop her progress now.

She takes a jab at my chest. I sweep it away. She leaves the rest of her body open. I slash downward onto her shoulder. It hits her and bounces away again. However, the energy of the attack makes her tumble to her side. In her fall, she flails her saber and nicks my left wrist.

It feels like a bunch of fire ants just bit into me at once. I let out a quick gasp. Looking down at my wrist, it leaves a thin light red mark. Great. Just when I thought I could get out of this without any injury.

It's just a small cut, though. And with Five on the ground, I know I can't pierce into her again.

Except for her eyes. They are the only parts uncovered. I really hate to do this. It seems like the weak way out, but I need to do anything to survive.

I raise the sword to plunge it into her eye.

She stops the saber with her hand. The tip digs into her palm. Five screams as the burning blade sizzles her skin. She rolls over, and I leap towards her preparing to strike again.

I feel a sensation behind me. Then, the crunching of sand over Five's screams. I whip myself around. It's the big guy, and he is hurtling at me with a club.

I juke to my left. He tries to correct his aim with the club and hit me. In my juke, my arm stretched out too far. He knocks the light saber out of my hand. It spirals through the air before falling out of my reach.

He can't stop himself and trips over. With his fall, his club rolls just out of his reach. He digs into the hot sand with his elbows to crawl to his club.

There's only one weapon I have that can reach his club in time.

I unhook my whip and unfurl it. When it is long enough, I lean back and let the end fly.

It smacks the ground between the club and his hand. He stops. Cyrene is still writhing on the ground and whimpering in pain.

Another pair of feet rush towards me. I turn around again. A ting girl with a light saber is running towards me. She looks not even twelve years old. She is so much smaller and weaker just like Edan. I don't want to kill her.

But she is coming at me with a weapon.

I have to do what is necessary. There is no other way besides death.

I grip the whip and prepare to strike.

"Monette, no. Everybody stop."

The girl stops ten feet in front of me. I use this opportunity to run back a few feet away from the Cornucopia to see the full picture. The big guy climbs back to his feet with the club in hand. He is staring daggers at me and holding his club out. Five just got up also. She uses her other hand to take the light saber and turns it off. The blade retracts back into the handle. The smallest girl rushes over to the big guy, confused and trembling slightly.

I look at all three of them. They are leaning on the wall of the Cornucopia. We stand and let the sun beam down at us. The heat blankets us, keeping the silence thick and murky.

Five catches her breathe.

"We're not going to kill you. We just want to get out of here. We promise that if you let us go, we will never bother you. Trust us."

Trust? Is she asking me to trust her? I have never trusted anybody. Trust is something that has killed and hurt so many others. Now, these fuckers want me to trust them? I've lived my whole life without trust, and I have survived. I'm not going to stop now.

The reason I'm going to leave is because I know my limitations. I can't fight off these three. The mutts were easier. They were stupid and mindless. These three are smarter. Humans are unpredictable, and some of those idiots are the most dangerous mutts of all. If they ganged up on my at the same time, I don't know how long I could hold them off.

I'm not some stupid adrenaline junkie or Career that thinks they're hot shit. They can clean these bitches up on their own.

But first, food and water.

I bolt for the inside of the Cornucopia.

"Wait, don't do that." The Five girl says. They start to chase after me.

When I round the corner, I see makeshift carts with boxes of food fastened to it with ropes. Jugs of water are also in tow.

If I'm going to leave, I'm going to take some goods with me.

The arena intervenes.

Just as I reach out to one of the carts, I feel myself fall backwards. The entire arena seems at have shifted to its side. It feels like something is sucking me in from behind.

I hit the inside wall of the cornucopia.

The carts are coming right at me with the speed of lightening.

I roll myself over the wall as the the objects crash into the wall, scattering everywhere. Some of the other materials fall off the edge, rolling down the sand surface with the other three.

It stops.

Me and the other objects fall to the floor.

My hat stayed on through all of this.

**Xavier Thomas**

We took a mighty fall. When I get back to my feet, my head is pounding. My arms and legs are battered by skidding on the hot sand. I groan as I regain my composure in the weightlessness of the hallways. Food and water jugs are floating around me like coins in a wishing well.

Monette has a gash on her head. Cyrene's hand is blistering from the burn on her palm. Monette is crying softly while Cyrene is still gasping for air. I pull myself over to Monette and take her in an arm.

Cyrene rights herself and grabs onto a water jug. "I think the whole ship just moved for some reason. Grab all you can. We need to get out of here."

Thinking back to the past few minutes, I'm still furious. Everything could have gone according to plan, but that bully from Nine had to come in and try to fight. What really ticked me off was the whip he used. I know he didn't mean to, but it brought back all of those memories I've had in my childhood. Day in and day out, I worked out in those fields and got whipped. In that moment that he pulled out the whip, I wanted nothing but to rip that street rat's heart out.

My family at home is probably more forgiving. We believe in paying good deeds forward to get something in return. I feel like they would be disappointed if I killed Aslovee for no reason.

Cyrene was right. There is no need to kill him. Even before he decided not to fight, she had it all planned out. It almost worked. Now, all our effort to pack the stuff is gone. We have to salvage the floating goods around us.

I guess that isn't his fault more than it is the Gamemakers. Why would they move the arena like that?

What is this anger I feel? I've never felt like this. It may be from the Games. Regardless, we should recollect ourselves, because we got out of there anyway.

We make it to the airlock room. As we open the door, a siren starts to sound. It doesn't help my already hurt head. Monette shivers, and Cyrene is shocked when she looks at the television screen. It was never turned on before except for midnight roll call.

On the screen is a meteor that is raving through space.

Cyrene puts two and two together fast. "So that's why they moved the arena. So we can be in the path of the meteor."

"Which are is it going to hit?"

"I don't know. We have to leave now." Cyrene says.

I turn to Monette. "How is your gash?"

Through her tears, she gives me a watery smile and thumbs up. I can't help but chuckle.

"We need to take everything we have in the ship. It's not as much as before, but it's at least a month's worth."

"That's a lot to me." Cyrene says. She takes a box and starts to open the holding room for the space ship.

"Should we put on the space suit?" I ask.

"Yes. The last rumble for the space debris was almost an hour ago. Im assuming our window of opportunity is longer for the meteor, but we have to leave now."

Cyrene looks calm, almost meditative in this situation. She is like a robot when she calmly and swiftly puts boxes inside the ship.

"Monette, you're good with notes. Please secure the food and water."

I'm more afraid than I have ever been in my life. Cyrene's plan is finally happening. We are going to leave the Games or die trying. Even if we make it out, what if we land in the middle of nowhere? What if there is no real civilization?

What if, what if, what if. All that matters is right now. And I will protect these two girls no matter what the cost.

**Cyrene Polymer**

Once strapped in, I turn back to Monette.

"Are you all ready?" I ask. "It's going to be a long trip."

Monette nods.

I turn the lights on. Then, I lift the lever to open the fuel lines. I hear the his snaking through the pipes. In the dead silence inside, it makes my stomach flip and flop like a thrown coin.

What if there is nothing out there? What if this is all that man is good for? We've destroyed everything to be seen and created all there can be?

That's even scarier to me than dying. What life can I have if there aren't others to live for?

"Turning on thrusters."

I push the left thruster and right thruster button simultaneously. The hissing comes to life in a loud roar.

"Xavier, open the doors."

Space looks just as beautiful as before. The middle portion of the arena is far in front of us. Earth is to our right, covered in white and blue that stretches forever around the globe. The burning stars dance around the dark backdrop. The darkness locks itself in an endless battle with our lights and the glow of Earth.

I feel the rumbling of the spaceship but not from the thrusters. The space debris is rounding the planet, and it is entering our area.

"Main engine. Let's go."

I slam my hand on the red button. Then, I lean forward with the wheel. We launch into space.

The metal space debris pummels the side of our ship. The objects rattle us in our seats as it flies across the arena.

I ever slightly towards Earth. Not enough to make anyone worry about what I am doing. By the time they realize what is happening, we will be gone.

The bumping gets louder and more violent. It feels like a boat that is rushing down a raging river. Our heads bounce side-to-side in our helmets.

What scares me is when the debris hits the front shield. It bounces off from the front. Xavier let's out a quick shout.

A voice comes on the speakers. "Substantial damage."

It repeats over and over as the inside of the ship turns red. We are getting closer to the center part of the arena. The jarring motions of the ship get harder. Harder.

I push the thrusters forward.

The vibrations rattle us to the very bone.

"What are you doing?" Xavier shouts.

"Getting us out of here." I say.

Just a few more seconds. If we make that point, we'll be too close for anybody to stop us.

We bounce harder in our seats.

The siren inside gets louder.

"Here goes nothing."

I yank the wheel to the right.

We lean violently into our turn as the entire Earth and arena tilts in our vision. Some of the boxes in the back slip from their hold, causing it to slide and collide with the right wall.

Another light comes on. It is one of a flame.

"Right thruster fire." I yell.

I look back as at as my restrained head can to Monette. She is holding onto her chest straps as tight as her skinny hands can muster. "Monette, above you is a button that has a fire extinguisher on it. Press it."

Monette stretches as high as she can. Her finger is inches away, but she cannot reach it.

"Unbuckle yourself and stand up. It's only for a few seconds."

She unbuckles and hops up to the button. Her finger mashes it, and the signal turns off on the dashboard.

A giant piece of a former satellite dish hits the right side of the ship. The entire vessel veers to its left. I grunt at the impact. My head hits the side of my helmet Monette's head thumps the ground. She goes limp, and her lifeless body slides towards the down side of the tilted ship.

I wrestle the controls to straighten it and point it downward. Xavier screams while unbuckling. He runs back to Monette and lifts her up.

"Monette! Wake up! You have to strap in!" Xavier shouts.

"She's out," I yell back. "Get back to the seat."

Xavier grunts as he heaves Monette towards her seat. Another hard hit. He almost topples over, but bounces off the chair. He sets Monette down and starts to buckle her harness back in.

"I told her to wear a helmet," I shout.

"Please. Don't die." Xavier wails at Monette's passed out body.

"Xavier, hurry."

"No! I need to stay next to her."

Then, he plops himself next to Monette and buckles himself into the seat.

It's just me up front to face the world. I don't even know how far the force field is from here. What if they put it around the whole globe? They couldn't do that, but my panicking style is making me delusion.

No. Stay calm. We are still flying.

Just then, the radar goes off.

The siren goes dead.

The voice dies away.

There is only darkness and the light of Earth illuminating the inside.

Another warning. It's blinking on the dashboard. Heat shield down. Reset necessary.

The reset switch is on Xavier's side.

I lean over and stretch out my fingers. They twitch and shake for the metal switch. A loud whoosh blows through us. A grey film is forming in front of us, signifying our fast descent.

I make one more lunge towards the switch.

This time, I flick it to the reset side. It slides back to its previous position.

The heat shield returns according to the meter, but only steadily increasing in potency.

But wait. If the GPS systems are down, does that mean we are out of the arena?

Red flames start to spread from the front end of the ship.

Just in case we aren't out yet.

As I jump in my seat from the rocky fall, I take a deep breathe.

"Mom, Dad, thank you so much. I know I caused so many problems for you two. But I need to find out of there is more in the world. If there are other people that are capable of being good human beings. To my friends, thank you for what you ha-."

Just then, an electric sizzle comes from behind and another rattle makes my heart leap.

"Okay, okay. You know what I'm thanking you for," I shout quickly. "I know I'm facing out there. I know what I'm facing right now. I just have to do it. For everybody in my life. And however this ends, at least I tried, right. Hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Just like you said mom."

The flames in front of us grow blue. White starts to grow over the front window.

"Thank you for believing in me everybody. Because however this ends, it's been an amazing life. And this will be one hell of a ride."

A boom comes from behind me.

Then, my entire vision becomes white.

* * *

**I'll let you all debate what just happened.**

**This will not effect the Games, but if you could partner up with any of the tributes in these Games, who would it be and why?**

**The final four special is next. Tune in then!**


	51. Opinion and Contemplation

"Fire the cannons." Jerome said.

The young kid with a handlebar mustache turned around. His face was twisted into an expression of abject horror and shock.

"What are you waiting for?"

The boy stuttered. "Sir, the vitals for the three tributes on the ship have gone offline."

"What do you mean?" Jerome asked. The nerves in his back began to tighten.

"According to the radar and tracker, they've disappeared."

Jerome yanked the boy's chair back. He yelped as Jerome leaned in to the screen. Sure enough, the places holding Cyrene, Xavier, and Monette's name have gone completely blank. It's as if they had never existed.

Jerome couldn't have this happen now. What if they did escape? Lanarsus would have him executed right there in the room. The plan needed to go all the way with him. He was the one component that could not fail.

Yes, Cyrene had been cooking up something, but Jerome thought the worst was that she had set up a way to blow the place up with some matches. He never thought escaping to Earth was on anybody's mind.

The saving grace is that even if they made it out, the ship was only made for transportation, not landing.

Jerome turned around and sighed. Even if they did escape, he would be fine as long as Lanarsus decided to act after the Games ended. Regardless, desperate times...

"Fire the cannons. They're dead," he said. Just as the boy started to protest, Jerome lifted a finger. "I don't want to hear another word. They're gone and that's that. Fire them. Now."

Three booms erupted from the speakers in the arena.

"Now, if the meteor isn't to come for another few hours, then I must have dinner. My secretary is in charge. I want nothing major to occur until then. I need to watch every important movement from now until the end."

Jerome swooshed around and exited the room. His secretary was slightly gobsmacked. She looked around the room, all eyes on her.

Suddenly, she smirked. "Get to work, everybody."

Jerome power walked down the sidewalk in the downtown area. Taxi cabs and buses barreled down the busy streets. Throngs of pedestrians scattered themselves around the street lined with thin shrubs and tunneling wind blowing through the tall skyscrapers. Television monitors flashed in every bar, restaurant, and condominium hugging the bustling avenue. Cars honked and people roared. Betting lines changed and gamblers groaned. With the three cannon fires a few minutes earlier, all was right in the Capitol for now.

Jerome needed to eavesdrop on some people. He needed to get a feel for what the reaction was to the occurrences in the Games. Seeing a group of semi-normal dressed girls hovering by a window showing a television inside a bar, Jerome sneaked over and leaned on the marble pillar next to them acting like he was merely taking in the moving automobiles in front of him.

"Venus has to win. Those people in Twelve are even poorer than before. I think they deserve a better winner than that poser Katniss."

Jerome nodded. He could agree with that.

"Come on, Myrtle. There's no way she can survive that poison he put in her. Unless she can find the medication. Speaking of him, I don't care how crazy he's gotten. Romeo is still my man."

"Really?" A shorter girl asked. "He seemed pretty rude about what he said."

The other girl waved her off. "That's just the Games talking. When he gets out, he'll be back in business, and I'll be the first person in line."

The fourth girl gasped. "Are you crazy? You can have Romeo, because Aslovee is all mine."

"Zena, I don't think so."

"Do you not see him? He's sculpted like a god. He looks like he was carved out of stone. And he's a bad street boy? It's like every girls dream come true."

"I will say that cowboy persona does make me dream at night. I want to jump his bones the moment he gets out. But he is a little shorter than I'd like. Then again, you know what they say about big things."

"What?" Zena asked.

"Big things come in small packages. Or in his case, small things come with big packages."

The short girl smacked the talkative one. "Midara, don't say things like that in public."

"Don't tell me you don't have a crush on Aslovee. Or at least Romeo. Unless you have a crush on Eva-Marie?"

The short girl gasped and stepped back. "That's ridiculous. I-I just think Romeo's a little silly for what he said."

Jerome rolled his eyes. A little silly was an incredible understatement. He hoped that the young girls in the Capitol wouldn't be so naive or impressionable. Then again, these were only four girls. Maybe the rest were better.

He kept walking towards his favorite restaurant. It was a little seafood dive in between the television station and a boutique. It had the best tomato bisque. It was just the right swirl of spice and cream, but lax on the strength. Just soupy enough for him.

He walked past a crowd gathered in front of one of the many television screens set up for the Games. It was right in front of the large theatre. Nothing in particular was going on. Romeo was still limping through the airlock room. Nothing special yet.

Eventually, Jerome sat down at his favorite booth by the window. Looking out, he saw the running cars and motoring pedestrians dressed to the nines in the newest ornate styles. Jerome never saw the draw for them, but he did admit it would be great at parties. Maybe he should send a posthumous present to Helen.

Right. His death. With the Games drawing to the final four, he would have to kill Lanarsus very soon. As soon as the winner is announced, he would have to make sure the more sympathetic man in line for president is instated. The only way to do that was to make sure Lanarsus was dead.

Once the puppet was installed, they could get more Capitol funding for the new space program, and progress could continue without suspicion.

Even with a puppet president, there were plenty of enemies. In fact, many wouldn't hesitate to assassinate him if they thought he was caving in to rebels.

People needed to be conditioned to accept drastic changes in Panem. When all is said and done, Panem should be forgiving enough to let them finish their plans.

A few young teenage boys sat at a both behind him. Jerome quieted his thoughts to zoom in on the conversation.

"You're serious? They wouldn't let them escape."

"It's a cover-up. I really think they were aliens. They wouldn't let them come back down for nothing. What happened was that they found out they were aliens implanted on Earth. They couldn't have them die, so they sent them back down to communicate with."

Jerome sighed. The next generation needed help badly. Hopefully, the Victor can steer humanity in the right direction. That was part of the plan, after all.

"But seriously, Eva-Marie needs to win."

"Why? Because she's hot?"

"No. Well, maybe. But she would be a worthy Victor."

Can't argue with that, Jerome thought.

"You could say the same about Venus. And she deserves it more. Especially from Twelve. She actually cares about her district, unlike other people. Cough, Romeo, cough."

"Romeo is pissing me off. The only reason he is here is because he probably slept with all the girls in order to let him survive."

Jerome picked up his phone and started to dial a number.

A few rings later , Helen picked up.

"I can't wait anymore. Did you see what just happened?"

"I did," she said. "It's okay. Most people just think they hit the force field. Firing the cannons was a good idea."

"Regardless, certainty is something these people are good at. He is questioning us as we speak."

"Then shut him up. You're in control. The moment you think the Games are going to end, run over and do the deed."

Jerome chuckled. "I understand that. Security will probably go lax when they see the Games ending. All those guards will be watching, and I can just walk in."

"Correct."

"Is it okay to say that I'm still scared?"

The conversation grinds to a halt. The only noise around Jerome is the chatting of the kids and the slamming of forks on ivory plates.

"What are you scared of?"

"Failing. And dying. But I knew that would happen."

"You'll do great. It's not like anybody liked him anyway."

"What if I found a way to escape after I accomplished it?"

"You know they'll be tracking you."

Jerome sighed. "Thanks, again."

He hung up. That would most likely be the last conversation he had with anybody.

Thinking about the Games, Jerome looked at the final four in play.

Eva-Marie was too distracted by Aaron and possibly Venus's death. She would make a strong enough Victor, but there wouldn't be enough energy after those deaths. She would be too shell-shocked.

If by some miracle, Venus found the antidote and survived Romeo's poison, he could see her being a good Victor. She's nice, independent, extremely patriotic which would do great at fooling any Capitol naysayers, and hyper enough to rally around. However, she was from Twelve and used a bow and arrow. People would have a hard time looking beyond that.

Romeo would be completely unlikable from his stunts in the Games. He had looks, and was very gentleman like at the beginning, but a misogynist lunatic was a big no-no. The only way he could see him working is if he came out of the Games, regained sanity, and recanted all he had said. Even then, his mental toughness wasn't there. If he was swayed that quickly, he couldn't make it as a new symbol of the Rebellion.

Aslovee would be hard to get to cooperate. He already lived a very tough life of doing things the only way he saw fit. A rebellion is probably the last on his to-do list if he makes it out. Then again, he's faced hardship and lived through what the Capitol has subjected to the people of the outer districts: poverty. He had mental toughness and stability. He certainly did what it took to survive, and according to the girls by the bar, he did have looks on his side. People would like to have a tough figure to rally around. Not only that, but the Capitol wouldn't suspect him for even a second of starting the passive revolution.

Passive revolution. Unlike the last one, the were going to be quiet and subtle. Once they had all the people in the right spots, funding and support would be gift wrapped to them. They will make the Capitol theirs.

Jerome ordered the tomato bisque. Then, he kept staring at the buzzing people outside.

All of these people seem so calm when so much is brewing right in front of them. They weren't completely stupid. If they figured out that another rebellion was forming, they would oust all of the suspected traitors, then find the headquarters for the rebellion. Once destroyed, all the hard work would be lost.

He hoped that the next president and Gamemaker was smart enough to slowly but surely make the board and peacekeepers sympathetic to their values. The Victor could handle the rest of Panem. It's the inside government that needed convincing, and the President and Victor would need to work together for that.

They would make everyone believe that it is by their own choosing to accept a rebellion, instead of having one forced on them.

Jerome took a sip of water. He would need to get to the headquarters soon. Imagine if a death happened and he wasn't there.

He needed to calm down. Everything would work out how it was supposed to. Even if the plan was for him to die.

* * *

**Who would make the best victor? Who would make the worst? Why or why not? What do you think about the public opinion Jerome heard. Is it accurate? Has your opinion changed? Your answer will not effect the Games.**

**The end is near. Get ready!**


	52. Day 5: Game of Inches

**Venus Whitmore**

Eva cuts me from the ropes. My arms and legs go limp on the ground. Eva runs around the room, knocking away weapons and metal to find the poison kit.

She flips open the green bag and shuffles through it. Clinking glass and ruffling papers sort through her hands. I stay limp on my back, the twitching from me hands slow to a halt. I can't move.

Eva runs over to me and crouches by my head. "I can't find a cure. We have to make it back to be the Cornucopia."

She tries to lift me up. The contact with her skin burns like a lapping flame. I gasp out. "No. Just stop, Eva. There isn't enough time."

Eva let's go. She runs around the room, scrambling for any missed bags or boxes. She rushes through like a madman during a panic attack. She might be going through one right now.

"Eva, please stop. You need to get out of here."

"I'm not leaving you here. We're fine. I just need to look through better," she shouts.

She is making me freak out. I'm only a few minutes away from complete paralysis and death. My brain can shut down any second. I don't want my last few minutes to be stressful.

Im all honesty, I knew I couldn't make it. Unless some miracle happened, I understood from the very beginning I would be killed somehow. I will be strong for my entire family and my District. I don't want my loss to be in vain.

"Eva, please calm down. You have to accept what is happening to me."

She turns around. Her hair is frazzled tears threaten her eyes. "I'm not losing one more. We're gonna make it to the end."

I feel a coolness tickle my spine. My entire body goes frigid, immobile from the coursing poison.

An intense heat flows through me. I groan.

Eva kneels down again. "What's wrong?"

"The poison is going faster." I say. My voice is losing its power.

"Relax. I'll find it in a second." She says.

I cough. Small droplets of blood spirt out. The metallic taste makes me even more scared. But I can't be afraid of death. I have to show the world what I am made of.

"Eva, just stay here with me. I can't do this alone."

She starts to cry. Her voice breaks. "Don't leave me alone. I can't be alone."

I shush her. "It's okay. I knew what I was up against."

She sniffles. "You mean the Games."

I cough again. I feel my throat get clogged by more blood. "Don't you get it? There was no way they would let a girl like me win."

Eva trembles. "A girl like you?"

"Think about it. District Twelve. Bow and arrow. I could have been the worlds greatest tribute, and I would have died anyway."

I smile at her. "At least I have someone beside me. And I have the Earth to look at one last time."

The large porthole looking out towards Earth makes Eva's silhouette brighten with her shadow falling on me.

Eva cries harder. "I can't do this by myself. There's no way. You haven't seen Venus yet."

"Yes you can. Just remember that there is no way for you to fail. Even if you do die, there's two great friends waiting for you. And Cadmium."

She chokes out a laugh. "Yeah, right."

My eyes start to redden. There is more heat in me now. My eyesight is becoming blurred, and my throat is as dry as a desert.

"Mom, thanks for everything. You were the best mom a troublesome girl like me could have."

"Venus, please don't."

"Autumn and Willow, you're going to be the best twins when you grow up like you already are. Don't take your lives for granted."

Eva's tears fall onto my chest.

"Dove, you're my best friend. You too, Sterling."

Hot tears start to stream down my cheeks. I feel so hot on the inside. My vision is going black. Everything inside me is shutting down.

"I can't wait to see you, dad."

I take one last look at the planet outside. It looks so peaceful and happy. I wish the people down there feel just as good about their lives as I did.

I feel my head lean to the side.

My eyes close. Then nothingness takes over.

**Eva-Marie Green  
**  
The cannon fires.

The anguish I feel inside me is ripping my insides into shreds. I have to run from the room. I feel vomit start to rise up in my throat. Just keep choking it down. You're in the top three now. You need to concentrate.

I'm all alone in space.

There is no one to talk to. No one to help me. And a giant arena where I just wander until slaughter happens.

That is until I make it to the airlock room.

There is a trail of blood splattered on the floor. It must be from Romeo must have gone across space. There is some scattered bits of food and rope on the floor. The television in the room is on.

How will I get through this without Venus? She made me feel more comfortable in my situation. Now, I must avenge her. Romeo needs to die. Then, I can go out and live my life the way I should: the way Venus and Aaron would want me to.

I look at the monitor. It shows a burning meteor.

And it's coming in five minutes. Was I by Venus's body for that long?

I run to the space suits. I pull my legs into the right spots. Putting on the heavy equipment takes at least five minutes. I need to keep a calm mind. I put on the under suit with the tubes of liquid cooling water.

One and a half minutes to go.

I strap in the overall part around my shoulders. Then, I pull up the tight bottom of the suit. It is hard to pull up. The material is so puffy and hard to grip even by the waistband.

One minute.

Now comes the top. I pull on the top part of the suit and yank it down over my head. I suck my gut in to make sure that it is in place. When it is there, I fasten the parts onto the waist to ensure there is no room for escaping oxygen.

Once my fingers are all the way in the gloves, I take the helmet and plop it over my head. Then, I lock it in place.

Twenty seconds.

How did the time fly by so fast? It couldn't have taken me that long to put it on.

I run towards the airlock. Pressing the open button, my body rushes in the moment a body-sized crack appears.

The room is a deep red. A siren blares out even louder.

I press the open button for the airlock.

Space sucks me out.

The vacuum yanks me out of the ship like I'm a doll on a string. My voice yells out with the increasing force of the pull.

All I hear is myself. I'm breathing faster. My heart is screeching in my chest.

I race further into space.

But I forgot to time my jump.

Instead of heading directly towards the middle ship, I am heading out into deep space.

I scream louder than I ever have in my entire life.

Nothing but black greets me as I start to fly farther into the abyss. The only thing left for me to do is meet the stars and wait for my oxygen to deplete.

There is nothing I can do. I flail my arms, trying to swim my way back. But I can't turn. The arena is starting to grow smaller. I turn my head towards it.

The meteor strikes where I was before.

The entire ship rips into separate pieces as they split away like a crumbling building. Electrical sparks and ropes fling themselves around like swimming tadpoles. They spiral away further and further.

Just then, I see a thick rope of some sort stretch out. It stays attached to the ship, wedged between to pieces of debris pressed together. It comes at me with the speed of a dropping rock.

It is my only chance.

I reach my arm back.

The rope keeps moving closer.

Just a few more feet.

It stops.

I hurtle myself backwards. I stretch out one more time.

My hand grasps the end of the rope.

I halt my progression into space. My entire body is upside down, and I am holding onto the rope with my stretched back and bent arm. I am at the mercy of the insulated rope. More debris scatters around and rockets away and towards me. I pray that it misses me. If I'm hit, there's no way I can equal its propulsion. It will rip me away from the rope.

I tug on the rope to pull myself forward. The rope doesn't budge from it's wedged spot. I grunt and heave forward again.

I fly forward and let go of the rope. At that moment, it dislodges from its spot and spirals into space. I am still upside down. I can't control my spin and I hurtle towards the broken ship.

When I hit the wreckage, tiles and electrical wires rip out of their places. My head starts to jerk to its side inside the helmet. The wind is knocked right out of me. I try to grab onto whatever I can, but there is no hold. A piece of wall is right behind me. I buckle my legs, preparing for the impact.

I ram into the wall. With the hit, I start to spiral around like a merry-go-round. The Earth comes into my vision, then out. The wreckage sailing into space comes in, then out. I'm spinning so fast, it all becomes a blue of dim blue, metal wreckage, and black.

All of it is becoming black. The forces are too much for my head. It hurts harder. Darkness starts to form in the corners of my eyes. It starts to grow larger, and spots form even faster.

I'm still upside down.

This might be it.

Just then, a pillar cut from the ship slams me on my side.

It stops my spin, but I become even more disoriented. My head stays light with the impact. I start to drift slower in the direction of its hit, but I am still spinning around, albeit more bearable. Like a fly swatter, it hit me with enough force to bounce me off it and scatter me towards the center arena.

I drift slowly. My head can rest easier.

I lasso in as much air as I can while I travel towards the slow-moving center.

With the bang of debris, I was saved for the moment. Now, I'm heading towards safety. Unless Romeo was still alive.

My thoughts turn back to Venus and Aaron.

"Is there something else out here?" I huff out. "A place people go when they die? Can I believe in anything? Do I have a right to exist?"

In the distance, a comet burns bright and streaks for a second through the strangling dark.

"Why does Earth exist? Who made such terrible things?"

The center is still a few minutes away. I close my eyes and breathe slower.

"Why is there nothing up here to save us all?"

**Romeo Caliteo  
**  
It's past midnight now. I've made some progress through the arena. I need to find somebody. I can still take them on. I cried with happiness when I heard the cannon fire and saw Venus's name in the screen. A weight felt lifted off of my shoulders. Euphoria filled my every fiber. I was like a little boy that got an amazing birthday present. My goal is near. Once these girls are gone, my work will be complete.

I push my way down the halls. Thank the Gamemakers for having zero gravity. Otherwise I would be dragging myself around. There is no blood leaking through me, even though it would with gravity. On top of that, I can right myself and stand on the floor if I pull myself down enough.

Eva-Marie has to die. Once all the girls are gone, I will be happy forever. They will pay for all my suffering.

My mom hates me now. I don't care. She's caused me more suffering than any girl. Maybe in another world, she didn't sleep with my older brother. We would be happier.

However, I wouldn't have learned my lesson. I would still think live is real. I would be sleeping with every slut down there. Here, I've had the greatest epiphany of all. I've figured out humans. Men have to slave themselves out for women. Females take us, play our heartstrings like guitars, and break us piece by piece until we are nothing but mush.

Every bitch in this stupid place has to die. And there is only one left.

She has to be around here somewhere. She couldn't have gone very far. I know for sure that she is alive.

When I pulled the knife from my back, I set it beside me. So now I'm ready for when she comes around. Yes, I'm terrible at knife throwing, but when the time comes, I trust in whoever is up here looking down at is that I will be given the strength to shoot the knife right into her neck. Then, she can suck my cock for all I care. I can watch her gargle on her own blood until she is nothing but a cold statue of a body.

When I round a corner, a guy stops in front of me.

It's that guy the Careers were scouting out. The guy that killed Satine. The shirtless guy with a cowboy hat and leather belt with whip.

Aslovee.

My hero. The guy that stood up and killed that slut.

I lower my knife and raise my hands up. He is about ten feet away.

"Please don't." I'm surprised at how weak my voice sounds.

He glares daggers at me. I feel a small chill come over my shoulders. I need him to like me and fast.

"I'm so close to my goal. Don't kill me yet. We need to kill Eva-Marie. She's the only girl left. If I die before she does, those cunts on Earth will win. We have to kill them all."

I lower myself to my knees. I can't help but think that this is how the scene with Satine played out.

"I'm begging you. After that, I can die in peace. Please, we just need to work together for this one kill. They all need to die. Don't you get it? You have opened my eyes. They are nothing but sluts that play all of us. We need to take back the power that belongs to is. We can't be played with anymore. This is for all men. Please."

He keeps his dangerous stare frozen on his face.

This isn't working. There is no reasoning with this guy. I need to complete my mission. My vengeance for all men that have ever been treated this way.

If he doesn't want to be apart of it, then I will finish it myself.

I push off the floor and lean back towards the knife. When I grasp it, I take my free hand and hold on to a pipe on the side. Then, I fly forward.

I rear back my arm. The knife is aimed at his heart.

Just a few more feet.

A whip knocks away the knife and draws blood from my hand.

I spin slowly from the hit and shout out in pain.

From the corner of my eye, I see his glare from under the brim of his hat. Then, I see the gleam of a sword being unsheathed in the light.

I stretch my palm out. "Please. I need to kill he-."

The sword slashes into my side.

I roll around and writhe in pain.

"No. I'm begging you. They'll win."

The tip plunges into my middle.

I press my hands around the blade. It went right through me. I already feel the blood clogging inside me. I'm coughing it ou. A few droplets float in front of my face.

I look up at Aslovee.

"Women don't deserve us. We need to attack." I gargle.

Damn it. I was so close to my revenge.

It's all over.

My vision fails, and I see nothing but black?

Fucking traitor. How could Aslovee do this to me?

* * *

**4. Venus Whitmore**

I honestly think the only reason people didn't like her was because she was from Twelve and used a bow and arrow. If either one of these was different, people may like her. I loved every second writing her. I guess when they say write for an audience of one, it didn't work out here.

**3. Romeo Caliteo**

You have to admit his development was interesting. How could a chivalrous, loving man like Romeo fall into a hole of misogyny, attempted rape, and blind anger. Just add the Games! It's okay. I would have hated him, too.

**We are almost there. Should there be one last Games chapter, or two? Let me know!**

Who will win out of the last two? Who do you want to win and why? Who is the better character?

Also, have these Games lived to your expectations. Or are they disappointing. Please don't be mean. This is my first try,'and I don't want my my heart broken.

Everybody check out Thou Art Mortal. It's a great SYOT with more effort put in than my silly old story.

**See you soon. There probably won't be an update in the next two days, but the Games will be over by the end of the week. I expect the sequel to start next week at some point.**

**Keep up the great reviewing. It's what makes me strive for success.  
**


	53. Day 5: A New Era

**Aslovee Chesed**

What the fuck was that shithead going on about? He was talking about wiping out all the girls in the world, and he begged me to let him kill the last girl. Why didn't he just try and get rid of me? It's disgusting, his random hatred towards and entire gender. The Games are pointless enough. Why should they have to die because of his personal problems.

Granted, that girl from District One did try to blow me. I assume that was Four's girlfriend. I would be pissed off, too. But I would be pissed off at the killer. He seemed happy to see me. I wouldn't have been surprised if he tried to blow me as well.

I won't say I feel better, but I can't help but be a little relieved. There is only one last person standing between me and going back to Earth. One person left before I can have the longest shower of my life and have an actual roof over my head. One person left to prove that I don't need my parents or anybody to survive. I raised myself, and if it works, then fuck if I'm going to stop.

It's past midnight. Am I going to find the girl, or will the Capitol take me to her? I'm not worried about dying from mechanical means anymore. The Capitol wants a fight to the death. I have to face her at some point. Regardless, I need to keep my eyes open and senses working. No shithead is going to sneak up on me.

Apparently, the Capitol folks are liking me more and more.

A light goes of in one of the sponsor boxes. I float towards the shaft and open the door. Inside lays a water bottle and the same jumpsuit Five was wearing.

Finally, I can feel more comfortable.

I flung my cowboy hat across the room and put on the jumpsuit. It is tight and fits like the cooling liquid vest inside one of the bulky spacesuits. It is warm and elastic. It seems like a normal jumpsuit. I find it hard to trust something that seems so thin.

Im so much better about having something around my chest. I felt incredibly unclean without me from all the dirt and grime from around the arena.

What sucks is one of my swords is permanently nicked. With the lack of weapons around, I need to be careful for a final showdown. I think this is all the time we have left here. I can't use heavy or bulky weapons, and my aim is bad for long range weapons.

What would happen back in District Nine? Those fuckers would pretend to be happy for me. The same ones that sneered at me walking down the street. It's disgusting to think about how people are so easily swayed.

I hear a groan.

I'm around the same place where the airlock room is located. I need to be quiet and calm. I've done this before when I've sneaked around different places like the Peacekeeper center. I don't know who this person is. She could be the toughest tribute yet. Or she could be weak and hurt. That would be even worse. She would be erratic and reckless. Even if it is the final two, control is my friend.

I elevate myself down the hall. The corner is just inches away.

My hand is placed on the edge.

I push myself off it and make the turn.

By the airlock room door is a tall girl with who is hunched over her knees. She is gasping for air and wearing her spacesuit pants. She has a belt around her waist with two knives. Her frazzled hair is floating up and above her like she was in a swimming pool.

No time to waste.

I unsheathe the sword from my back and pull myself forward.

She looks up. Her green eyes widen in shock.

She brings a hand to her waist and flicks sharp metal forward.

That's when the knife plunges into my left shoulder.

* * *

Jerome kicks open the door and saw the security guard stationed at the side of the door. He hustled past him down the gleaming hallway in the moonlight. The sunroof stretched all the way down the long corridor as Jerome ran like an escapee from prison.

When he reached the bathroom, he rested his hands on the cold marble sink counter. After snagging some precious breathes of air, he fumbled in his dress pants pocket for plastic bag. When he pulled it out, he smoothed out the bag and opened it. A white powdery substance crumbled inside the bag. He ripped it open and dropped the contents on the counter.

He pulled out his valet Parker's business card and chopped the substance into long individual lines. Once done, he took out a plastic straw. Closing on nostril with his finger, he put the straw in his other nostril and leaned down to the powder. She snorted it into his nose.

He leaned back and gasped. His eyes widened and started to turn red.

He did this for the six other lines of cocaine. His heart rate exploded into electric thumps. His limbs were twitching and shaking like a blender. The lights in the bathroom erupted into blaring spotlights that sting his sensitive eyes. He felt electrified, hyper, and angry.

The bathroom door opened. An old bald man walked into the room. He looked at Jerome. Then, he saw the mess on the counter.

"What are you doi-."

Jerome pulled a pistol with a sliencer from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He pulled the trigger.

The man's face froze in eternal shock as the bullet ran through his head. Ruby blood flung itself to the white wall behind him.

Jerome ran past the corpse and out of the room.

He turned himself down the hallway and ran faster. His blood was pumping like an adrenaline filled warrior preparing for battle.

A security guard started to run towards the bathroom.

"What was that?" He shouted at Jerome.

Jerome turned around and shot the guard twice in the chest.

He reloaded the clip, and ran faster.

A few seconds later, he reached the garage of the headquarters. He scanned the area for his car. When he found it, he turned it on and slammed on the gas. The tire tracks burned into the concrete as he raced away.

A block after he left, a siren sounded from the building.

* * *

Aslovee swung his blade at Eva-Marie. The sword cut into her side. She shouted in pain while scurrying back into the airlock room. Aslovee's momentum made him fly past the door, so he could only watch as Eva-Marie escaped into the room.

Inside, she heaved her chest for air while running towards her discarded spacesuit. She hurried to wrestle herself into the suit. Because she had her suit pants on, she put on the top and simply strapped the suit together.

Aslovee popped in once she had the torso on. Blood bubbles on his shoulder. He pulled out the knife. She had one knife left in her hand. However, she did not throw it. Instead, she rushed to the table for her helmet and darted towards the airlock. Aslovee ran towards her and shunted his sword at her. He nicked the side of the suit as she ran into the red room. Aslovee followed suit. Once the got inside the room, Eva-Marie slapped her helmet on. She leapt backwards from Aslovee while he advanced on her.

He swung again.

Eva-Marie dodged and reached for the keypad to open the door. Aslovee ran forward and tacked her to the ground. She tried to plunge the knife into his stomach, but Aslovee knocked her hand back and rolled off her. He jumped back to his feet and reached forward with his blade.

Eva-Marie reached the keypad. Aslovee sprinted for the room door and held onto the metal handle. She opened the bay door into space.

Aslovee gripped the metal and held on as the vacuum of space tried to yank him backwards. Eva-Marie escaped into space. She climbed out into the dark expanse and started to scale the outside wall of the spaceship.

Aslovee used every muscle in his body to pull himself forward. He pressed the button to close the bay door. His arms were getting tired. He felt his grip start to slip. The force of the pull was too strong. His shoulder was hurting even more. It felt like his arms wear about to tear from its sockets.

His hands let go.

He flies towards the closing doors.

He spins around and holds his sword horizontally in front of him.

The sword hit the door and stopped his descent into space.

He does not fly into the gap, and it grew smaller before it closes.

Aslovee fell to the ground and hopped back up. The pain in his shoulder rattled the hurt nerves. He clutched it and headed for the airlock room.

Once back inside, he started to put on the spacesuit.

* * *

Jerome reached the Presidents Manor in six minutes.

Being on the outskirts of the Capitol, there was no traffic between the Game Headquarters and the President's place. It was a light tanned building that stretched at least two city blocks. The white shuttered windows gleamed in the full moon above it. A golden fountain of the Earth stood in the center of the brick drive-through. Green hedges lined the entire house.

The security guards at the gate did not know about The siren yet, so Jerome drive right in. He parked in front of the large oak door. Walking out, he went up the marble steps.

Two security guards flanked the door on both sides. One of them held out his palm. Jerome slapped it with his own.

"I wasn't hi-fiving you, dumbass. I want to know what you're doing here."

Jerome nodded. "Excuse me, gentleman. But I must see President Lanarsus for some business."

"You know you have to call an hour before you come." The other guard said.

"I apologize, but it was last minute."

The guard sighed and waved him forward.

Just as Jerome reached for the door handle, the other guard stopped him.

"Hold up. I'm getting something in my earpiece," he said.

"Me too," the other one said.

"Code forty," the guard said. We're on lockdown. There's been a shooting at the Game Headquarters. You need to leave," he said to Jerome.

"Very well."

Jerome turned around. He took one step.

Then, he whipped around with two guns in hand directed at the guards faces.

Two blood splatters tainted the white pillars behind them.

Jerome grabbed an assault rifle from one of the guards and burst into the room.

The foyer was a large white space with a marble staircase leading up to the next floor. The floor was an immaculate ivory and two large doors were etched into both sides of the foyer. A few statues and busts of Panem's past presidents and Hunger Game winners stood by the walls like soldiers protecting the building.

The actual security guards stood by each door entrance and the front of the staircase.

Jerome lifted the assault rifle and mowed down the guards in front of him by the stairs. More blood coated the white steps.

Once the guards broke out of their shocked states, they pointed their weapons and opened fire.

Jerome leapt towards his side and hid behind a statue of President Snow. Bullets punctured the marble and the pieces flew around like firecrackers. The sound of the impact made Jerome deaf. He heard only the sound of the ringing in his ear. More marble rained down around him,

In the midst of the fire, Jerome leaned from behind the statue and fired on the guards from his left. He peppered the shots across their zone, and the bullets hit their middle. The bullets pierced their body armor and made them fall in injury.

Jerome got on his feet and started to strafe sideways towards the next statue, one of the winners of the Seventy Forth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen. He grazed his shots towards the other pair of guards. A couple of bullets poked his legs, but because of his drugged state, he did not react. Instead, he returned fire and killed the other two guards. When he made it to the injured guards, he lifted one up to his feet and out him in front as a human shield. The guard screamed as Jerome dragged him in front of him towards the stairs.

A few guards rushed to the railing of the floor above him. They had their weapons pointed at him and the hurt guard.

Jerome started to snipe them one at a time as they shot from all sides. A few more bullets punctured him, and the guard screamed as some entered him as well.

"Sorry Daryl." One of the guards screamed to Jerome's shield.

* * *

When Aslovee put on his spacesuit, he clutched his sword and got into the airlock. He paused briefly before opening the doors. This was the end. He and Eva-Marie were four to right to the death in space.

He opened the door and entered the darkness.

There was no noise from him or her. Aslovee went in the direction Eva-Marie climbed towards. He went towards the roof of the ship.

When he popped hi head over the edge, Eva-Marie thrusted forward and tackled him. She wrapped her arms around his head and pulled her legs around his torso. They somersaulted away from the surface of the ship. Eva-Marie stabbed the knife into his suit.

Because of the length of the knife, the blade did not sink far enough to cause damage. She kept stabbing, but it had no effect. They keep spinning faster over and under towards the other non-destroyed spaceship.

Aslovee pushed her away and stretched his arm out with his sword at the ready. Eva-Marie kicks his hand and sends him spinning again. She hurtles towards the closing in ship.

Both the center of the arena and the smaller ship are coming closer towards each other. They are ready for impact, and the two tributes are directly in between them.

Eva-Marie and Aslovee's distance towards each other stay constant. They fly closer towards the ship which is coming closer towards them.

Eva finds only one more opportunity until they hit the wall.

She took the knife and threwit.

Aslovee turned himself into a barrel roll and dodges the knife. It cuts through the nonexistent air towards the abyss.

Eva-Marie holds her breathe.

She hits the wall with her head.

She bounced away slowly as everything jostled in front of her. Her head is rattling from the hit, and her brain hurts from the disorienting impact. She floats up and starts to head to where the two ships are about to hit each other.

She gasped harder for breath. Her oxygen will run out in less than three minutes.

Because of her sliding up the surface, she is right in front of Aslovee.

He points his sword at her chest. She tries to roll herself to the side.

The sword goes into her arm.

A silent scream dies in the noiseless area of space as Eva-Marie writhes and wiggles from the hit. Aslovee takes out the sword and tries to plunge it into her again.

In the reflection of his helmet, he sees the spaceship behind him.

He takes Eva-Marie by the shoulder and lifts her up into the danger zone. He uses his sword to hit the surface and lift himself downward.

Eva-Marie's deaf scream stops when she turns around.

The two arenas crash into each other.

Flying metal and glass crash into Aslovee and sends him scrambling around the curved outer wall. It pushed him further away from the crushing arenas. A few more feet, and he will be plummeting toward Earth.

He grabs onto a broken porthole. His finger clutch the open sill.

The pain in his shoulder was almost blinding to his vision. The two ships were disintegrating into a mesh of electrical wiring and jagged metal. The roaring crash was muted inside his helmet. He could only hear his grunts and gasps for breath. He felt his shoulder ripping.

With one unbearable heave, he lifted himself into the wreckage.

The sprawling debris scattered further and further away from the impact zone. However, there was a large group of cables that was snagged around Eva-Marie's suit. It dug into her and was actively strangling her like a boa constrictor.

She was clawing at the ropes, trying to rip her way out of the electrical wiring. Blood was splattered on the inside of her helmet, and unheard screams came from her.

Aslovee dodged the spinning metal and stopped right in from of her. She was pressed between the ropes and a piece of the destroyed wall. The entire inside of the arena was now exposed, and the wreckage was twisted into a gigantic maze of destroyed machines and blinking lights.

Eva-Marie's oxygen depleted.

Aslovee saw her gasping for air. Her lungs started to burn. She felt her heart rate increase faster with every fight for air.

She mouthed at Aslovee.

"Please."

* * *

Jerome dropped the human shield at the front of the Presidents door. His body dripped blood on the velvet floor. He took a grenade from the man's pocket, and pulled the clip. Dropping it by the groaning man, he ran behind the corner of the hallway by the office. He covered his ears.

The explosion rattled the pictures and mirrors off the wall. They smashed to the ground as smoke started to come from the room. Jerome ran from behind the corner towards the giant hole that was the door.

A few moaning security guards lay on the floor. Jerome wiped them out. A few guards were planted by the walls. They zeroed in on Jerome.

He fell to the floor and his under the cover of the smoke. He shot at them again.

A few jarring vibrations from the firearm later, the corpses fall to the ground.

Jerome stood in front of the white desk. He stopped, waiting for any movement.

He took a step forward.

Nothing.

Another step.

A small fire began to burn towards the side of the room.

One more step.

This was it. If Jerome failed now, Lanarsus would live and stop the revolution in its tracks. They would probably keep him alive and torture him for information about inter-dimensional travel and the location of the Rebellion. The puppet president to be end rated would be killed, and every person on their side in the Capitol would be executed.

Lanarsus's head pops up from behind the desk. Along with a double barreled shotgun.

In many action movies, the hero and the Gillian partake in a battle of wits. A long monologue revealing everything to the people involved. All the dots would commect, and the explanations of the entire story would be out there in the open because there was nothing left to lose and the plot had reached its end.

Jerome is no action hero, and the Rebellion's grand plan had finally commenced.

A shotgun shell whizzed past Jerome's head.

A bullet whizzed into President Lanarsus's head.

* * *

In the beauty of outer space, Aslovee looked at the scene around him. The destroyed wreckage floated around like bubbles blown by a child in a park. The Earth was just as placid as before, painting the black with lively cerulean and mint green. On the other side, the infinite darkness surrounded the burning stars light years away. Nothing to hurt them, nothing to touch them.

Eva-Marie Green deserved to see them one more time.

From a place different than the lonely arena.

All she wanted now was to meet her friends somewhere in the blanket of stars, nuzzling her into a never ending sleep.

Aslovee Chesed stabbed his sword into her neck.

* * *

Jerome jumped at the sound of the cannon. He turned to the cracked television, and saw the Victor. He smiled.

The new era of man begins with Aslovee Chesed.

"Thanks, kid. Good luck with everything."

After punishing his superiors, Helen, and twenty four kids with his existence, he needed to make sure that his deeds would not go without consequence. Good and bad.

It was a fitting punishment and reward for Jerome.

He heard the footsteps of Peacekeepers running towards him. A light shone from the window behind him.

There was only one way to make sure the Rebellion was not put in jeopardy.

Jerome out the gun to his head.

The Peacekeepers filed in to find a large number of bodies. Behind the desk was the beloved President Lanarsus. In front of his desk was the beaten, battered, and bloody body of Jerome _.

* * *

Aslovee pushed away and floated towards the edge of the arena. He looked down at Earth. He did not celebrate. He did not cry. He showed no emotion except for the dark, almost apathetic look of his black eyes reflecting the planet below him. He could see everything.

He only heard one thing in the noiseless vacuum of space.

"Ladies and gentleman, our Victor for the Seventy-Sixth Hunger Games, Aslovee Chesed."

* * *

**We are done! Congratulations to KhaalidaNyx for winning. Thank you to all the OC creators and people that have followed, favorited, and reviewed this story. Keep up the wonderful work!**

**If you have submitted a tribute for the next Games, let me know. Also, reservations are now open to everybody! Tell your friends and family!**

**Eulogy Time (plays sad music)**

**2. Eva-Marie Green**

I think I made Eva-Marie meaner and pushier than she should have been. Regardless, she had arguably the most emotional turmoil in hese Games. Usually, those are the people that win the Games. This time, though, I wanted to see a Games that had the guts to have a different, togher type of Victor. Not every Victor is an angel, everybody! There are so many Games where this is the case, so I am glad that I can be the exception to that rule. Thanks to TheSecretNovelist on the second place finish!

**Kill Count**

Aslovee Chesed (District 9)-6-VICTOR

Who knew Nine had it in them? And he killed his own District partner? Too bad Sirch had to go against a swordsman. And I wonder why he was so slow on killing in that last situation. But look at all of these kills! The one with the most kills doesn't normally win, but that happened now!

Slate Bedford (District 2)-2

If there was a Career stereotype, she must be it. Good riddance.

Glint Mugg (District 1)-2

He almost seems to nice to kill. Oh well. A Career killing another Career. That's new. Maybe.

Eva-Marie Green (District 7)-1

Even Johanna had to start somewhere.

Romeo Caliteo (District 4)-3

He touched the trident last before it pierced her, so it is technically his kill. Figures. Hope he doesn't get too maniacal, though.

**Are you happy with the Victor? If so, why? If not, why? What do you think the Victor will say or do during the interviews, Victory tour, ect.? What would you like to see involving this character in the future. He will be involved in a plot stretching into the next Games. So get ready!**

**An Exit Questionnaire will be sent to all followers of this story. Expect it very soon!**

**Victor Interview and reaction should be next!**


	54. The Victor Interview

Barley Simmons sat at the brown table chewing on a ruby apple. At the moment, she was calm. The Games had ended mercifully faster than she expected, and her mentorship had proven to be a success. Of course, most credit did have to go to Aslovee. He was probably one of the better tributes to ever come out of District Nine.

The District, despite its wheat reputation, was mostly urban with the exception of the spacious yellow fields swaying in the golden sunlight. The buildings and shops flustered together in a hodgepodge of businesses and homes. As one of the poorer Districts, it was no surprise that the wealthy lived out in the country by those fields. It was a cruel joke that the workers had to look out of the factory windows and see the obnoxious estates and manors hugging the horizon.

Barley would have the pleasure of bringing back a Victor, and along with that came the special prizes and events the Capitol gave to the winning District. She expected that it would still be a tradition, considering that District Nine did not have a very large presence in the failed Rebellion.

A young man in his mid twenties with short brown hair and grey-blue eyes bit his fingernails in the black chair in front of him. He wore a green suit blazer with black pants. He seemed timid at best, but Barley's assistant did send him in for a conversation. While Aslovee was in the shower, he said that he needed to speak with her about the impending Victory Tour schedule.

"For quick introduction, I'm Russell Whitman. I'm assuming you're the mentor in question."

Barley nodded. "Yes I am."

"Where's Aslovee?"

"He's been in the shower for about an hour now. The guy is a real clean freak. You wouldn't think it. But we all have our quirks."

"You'd be surprised with the people I deal with. I'm a psychologist."

"A doctor? Or counselor? You're like twenty one."

"I'm interning at a counselor place. And I'm twenty."

"Where do you work?"

"I can't discuss that right now. I think there's one very important thing that I need to tell you. Now, nobody else knows this yet. We want to keep it secret until after the Tour is over."

"What? Did the President die or something?"

He coughed ferociously. After recovering, he stammered. "How did you know about that?"

Barley stared at the young man. "I was kidding."

He sighed. "We don't want it to overshadow the Tour. This is an important one. We need this to get back on track."

"On track of what?"

"Just on track."

Barley rolled her eyes. "So do we need to shake hands with some celebrity or something. Somebody has an affair with someone? What are you looking for? And who are you to come in here and demand this of me?"

"I've been assigned to help Aslovee. You see, the disturbing trend of clinically insane Victor's has always been apparent. The people at the government offices thought it was time to change that."

"What government offices?"

"Oh...just over at the government building. We picked straws and mine was the shortest." He said with a nervous chuckle.

Barley was growing suspicious. For all she knew, he was some paparazzi man looking for some extra money. Or he was some sort of Capitol man trying to dig for any trouble.

"I think you should go. We have to get ready for the interviews."

Russell pulled out a beige crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. "Let me just give you the itinerary."

Barley took it. The schedule for the next two weeks were emblazoned in black ink on the paper.

"I'll be joining in around the end. I believe that's when my first session with Aslovee is. Can't have him going crazy on us. This is a crucial time for our nation."

"You a politician or something? Why do you care?"

Russell said his goodbye and rushed out of the room.

Barley was growing nervous. This weird kid was up to something. He wasn't just working for the Capitol. There had to be a catch. She didn't remember being told about a psychologist when she got the mentor packet in the mail.

She saw some ink deep through the front of the paper. She turned it to the back.

She almost dropped the paper.

"The night before District Nine, there will be a vaccine in the train first aid kit. Inject it in his arm, then tell me. You find out the rest later."

Barley nodded to herself them ripped up the paper.

**Aslovee Chesed**

I've never scrubbed myself with soap harder in my entire life.

When I left the arena, I was out under for a quick operation, erasing any marks or abrasions from the Games. When I came to, he was in a Capitol hospital. I was released into Barley's care. The moment I got in, he made a beeline for the shower despite Barley's insistence that I was clean.

I only felt right when I did the job.

I've always felt better under the running shower. It felt so good underneath those hot drops of water. The steam around my face was like one of those masks they have at those spas I saw in a magazine.

I'm not sure if I feel happy about winning. It doesn't seem as special as people said it would be. I survived. I've done that every single day. Why should that last week have been any more different.

Then again, weird alien illusions and horny as fuck teenagers weren't normally in my way. I should be thankful. What about those others? It's weird, but I don't think I tried to kill any of those people out of anger or revenge like that one guy at the end. I think I did a lot of that stuff out of...pity? I don't know. I didn't want others to have to deal with one of that shot that went down like Edan.

All of those kills were just to take them out of their misery. Or they were trying to kill me. I'm not trying to justify that shit, but I did what had to be done.

I almost didn't want to leave that shower, but I figured enough clean linen scented soap would do for one lifetime. I got out and saw a crisp, black and grey pinstripe suit resting on my bed.

I forgot about those fucking interviews with that pussy Caesar. Mentor lady told me to be nice, which I wouldn't be if I didn't have every Peacekeeper's gun pointed at me. It'll probably be that way for the rest of my life so I don't start something.

Whatever. I'm gonna be in a real house for once. I gotta love that.

* * *

Caesar Flickerman adjusted his blue contact lenses with a wrinkles finger. His age was starting to show. Even with all the plastic surgery, layers of filmy makeup, and the smoky screens of the television special effects, the dying skin on his shining face was starting to wither away into layers of crinkling and drying skin.

Despite this, the Capitol crowd still lived him. He figured he had a good three or four years left until he had to give up the microphone anyway.

On the black stage, the lights explode into a barrage of gold and indigo. Upbeat music sprinkled through the large theatre. The crowd buzzed in applause while the cloud of stinging perfume floated above the cool stage.

He let out a heavy laugh and outstretched his arms beside him like he was a bird taking off. "Welcome everybody. It has been an exciting Games as usual. Now, I know we have lost quite a few friends along the way."

The crowd awed.

Caesar put a finger up to hush the audience. "But...it's okay. Because only the very best can make it here tonight. And, ladies and gentleman, we have a young man that has proven to be the best around. Give it up for the Bictor of the Seventy-Sixth Hunger Games, Aslovee Chesed."

The crowd roared and shot to their feet. Aslovee walked out in the black and grey pinstripe suit to the center. He looked uninterested, bored even from the flashing lights and cheering crowd sprinkled before him. He slowed down as he approached Caesar. The announcer reached out to his hand and gave it a firm shake. Aslovee returned the notion. He turned to the curved silver chair which was placed opposite of Caesar.

When he say down, he turned out to the crowd. They in turn sat down.

Caesar smiled. "Glad to plant your feet back on Earth, space man?"

The crowd laughed. Aslovee cleared his throat. "Sure. I felt kind of dizzy, but I'm fine."

"They say your spine stretches out in space. Hitting your head on anything?"

The crowd laughed again, but Aslovee was fuming. His insides felt cold, and a small zap of electricity ran down his spine. He frowned, and his hands tightened into tight fists. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Caesar chuckled. "Oh, come off it, Aslovee. We're all friends here."

"Hmph." Aslovee crossed his arms. "You're funny."

"You are, too. What isn't funny is just how dominating you were in the Games. Am I right, folks?"

The crowd applauded.

"The tribute with the most kills only wins thirty five percent of the time. Feel pretty lucky now, don't you?"

"About as lucky as being in the Games to begin with." He said.

The crowd laughed. Aslovee thought they were being generous. He was never very good with words, and he wanted to get through this interview as son as possible. If anything, dealing with Caesar and his obvious public facade was making him more impatient. He told himself to breathe. He made it this far; he could stomach a few more moments.

"We learned so little about you when we first met. When the final eight interviews happened, we weren't able to speak to your parents."

Caesar stopped. Aslovee was caught a little of guard at the awkward end. He shrugged. "A lot of kids don't have parents."

"Didn't we see them in the Games?"

"No you didn't. Those were just some things they decided to throw at me."

"Do you think that taps into your wish to see them?"

"No. Although if they were to show up, it would be now."

"Of course. You are the Victor. Anybody would want to know you."

For some reason, that last statement made Aslovee mad. Why is Caesar saying the worst things right now? Is he more temperamental because of the Games? The thing that surprised Aslovee the most was the truth in the words. Of course people would finally like him. Now, he was somebody. Not just a nameless face in the poverty-ridden alleyways. He thought it was disturbing and cruel. The moment somebody has something valuable, the whole world wants a piece of him.

"Aslovee? You alive, friend?"

Aslovee ripped his eyes off the small piece of fabric that stuck out on his pant leg. He relaxed his tensed shoulders and adjusted his black hair. "Peachy."

"Speaking of wanting to know you, I'm sure your aware of your popularity with the ladies here."

Shrieks and whistles pierced the cool air into Aslovee's ears. Some teenage girls stood up and hopped in the air or waved; anything to get his attention.

"I'm sure you'll find the perfect girl in that crowd somewhere. You're already on magazine covers, I may add. You're look was very appealing during the Games for many, and that's a rare thing to accomplish."

Aslovee scratched the back of his head. "I wanted to show everyone at home what they were missing."

He wanted to throw up after that, but he knew it was close to finishing.

It worked. A few girls screamed in the audience. Caesar chuckled. "And I'm sure you appeased all of them. In fact, that same thing seemed to have been a motif of the Games. Remember Satine and how she tried to weasel her way out of that situation."

Aslovee nodded. "People do that a lot of times. I've never weaseled out from anything. I'm going to take pain, I'll take it. Pain is a great teacher. The problem was that there are to types of pain. Teaching pain, and pointless pain. The pain that's there for people to suffer, and nothing else. That's what you run away from."

"Wise words. How about some of the other tributes. Romeo came across you towards the end."

"He was a wacko."

Silence settled between the two.

"Is that it?"

Aslovee nodded.

"What about Eva-Marie? The girl at the end."

"Tired. I think she gave up."

More silence.

"That's it?"

He nodded.

"How about Edan?"

"I wouldn't have minded helping her, but she would have only suffered."

"Satine?"

"Ew."

"Sirch? The one you battled with?"

"Didn't know him."

They both stared at each other. Caesar with a nervous glance, and Aslovee with a dark glare.

"So what do you plan on doing when you get home?"

"Take a vacation."

"That's it? No other plans?"

"Nope."

"Thank you very much. We are out of time, folks. But don't worry. Our coverage is still ongoing, and the Victor's ball is later tonight. Watch all of it and catch our new Victor in all his glory: Aslovee Chesed, everybody."

The crowd cheered.

Aslovee darted off.

* * *

**How did that make you feel? Was the interview good? **

**What do you want to see next? What do you like or don't like about our victor? **

**All constructive criticisms or compliments are welcomed and needed.**

**IMPORTANT NEWS! I will be accepting non-tribute OCs for the Rebellion. They will interact with Aslovee and the new Rebellion forces in an undiscolsed way. Do not worry about their placement or role, I will decide that. However, I will ask for further information on the character on a case-by-case basis! The same Application applies, just take out the Games categories. Again, I will ask for more information if necessary!**

**I set up a new poll. Please answer it!**

**Thank you!**


	55. The Victor Ball

The Victor's ball was about as swanky as I imagined. The giant ballroom was decorated with marble statues of angels creating a broken barrier between the buffets and the tables clustered together beside a large dance floor. Gold streamers and confetti sparkled in the bright lights illuminating the hardwood floor. Dancers and Capitolites in the strangest fucking dresses I've ever seen bounced around and chatted on and on. It was starting to give me a headache.

Barley prodded me forward, and people immediately flicked to me as I walked into the packed ballroom. Men and women tried to talk to me, looking for any conversation.

Why am I feeling so awkward? I don't know if I'm nervous. I don't want to say I'm nervous. All of these people are making me feel weird. I liked it better when I didn't stick out like a sore thumb. And the worst part is that I look completely normal and I stick out. Women in poofy dresses with ruffles spiraling around them widened their yellow and purple eyes as they wrestled their way towards me. Purple eyes. This is a circus. It makes me more awkward. I never wanted to be somebody to other people. I was fine existing for me. It made things much more simpler. I know what's gone down the last few years. The Capitol is watching me. Barley is watching me. I'll never be alone again.

That's what I want. To be alone. Right?

The air was infused with the scent of honey roasted pork and some weird looking circular things. They were green with some sort of skinny thing wrapped in it. It was a roll of some sort, but without bread. Next to them were two sticks crossing each other on a silver plate next to the food.

"It's called sushi," Barley said next to me.

"What's the stick shit next to it?"

"Those are chopsticks. And don't talk like that."

"I'd rather not talk at all."

"Could you make friends tonight? For me? I know communication isn't something you're good at, but we need to keep the lines open for a little longer, okay?"

Barley is making me feel even more tense. I don't think it's fear of tight spaces, whatever that's called. I just want to be any place except here. But her words are true. Doesn't make me any less angry. Maybe that's why we words are making me angry. Because I know something in them is hitting me. I'm smart enough to know what shit stings and what doesn't.

I'm in a different kind of helpless right now. One that I have to grit my teeth and run through.

"I'll be over there. Tonight, you need to go around and mingle. If anything happens, come right over to me."

I nod and turn to this sushi. Barley takes my hand.

"Things are changing. Keep your eyes and ears open."

She walks off.

I'm more confused than ever. What happened to survive or die? I have to please this person and that person. I know why my image is so important. I want to be alone.

After grabbing a plate, I see the only empty table at the corner of the giant room. With an in audible sigh, I walk over and sit down.

Not five seconds later, two girls and guys about my age race to the white chairs and slide them out of the table to sit down.

They looked almost related with how alike they all looked. The two girls were wearing skin-tight silvery dresses with their blonde hair curled to the side. One girl had lettuce green eyes. The other one had golden eyes. The two guys were wearing blue and white striped suits with brown hair and violet eyes. One of them had shoulder length hair, the other had it short and spiked up.

They all looked at me like I was a piece of candy for sale.

"You seemed lonely," the girl with golden eyes said.

"Who are you?" I asked. I hope I didn't sound too strong. People don't like that.

They didn't seem fazed. "I'm Caroline." The golden one said.

The green eyed one adjusted her hair and smiled feebly. "I'm Kim." She said in a quiet voice.

"Markus." The spiky haired guy said.

"Howdy. I'm Jean."

The girl named Caroline hit Jean. "Idiot. Don't make fun of him," she turned to me. "Don't listen to him. He's just jealous."

If this is what Barley said about making friends, I have nothing better to do. Except leave. But I guess that's out of the question. "I'm not very good with names. I might forget them in a second."

The golden eyes one laughed. "It's okay. I'm sure you'll remember me."

"Stop being full of yourself, Caroline. He's the Victor. He doesn't just take anyone. Although I bet he could." Spiky said.

They stop and look at me.

I say nothing.

I feel more awkward. I stare at the sushi below me.

"Nice necklace. That was your token, right?"

I look back up at green eyes girl. "Uh...yeah."

"I think I saw that at a restaurant once. Did they pay you to advertise it?"

"No."

"So what is it exactly?"

I have no fucking clue what it is. I just know that it's a ying and yang symbol. It could be an advertisement for all I know. "I don't know."

"Do you wanna at least try being interesting?" The long haired guy said.

Golden eyes smacks him again. "Why are you ruining my chances?"

He rolls his eyes and points at me. "I'm sorry. I just thought that we'd have an interesting tribute."

"He is interesting, Jean. Look at him." Green Eyes says.

"You mean his looks. Because that's all he has going for him. Do you not see his eyes? They're like looking into a doll's eyes."

"He's right. I wouldn't wanna wake up to that in the morning either." Short Hair says.

"Shut up, Markus," Spiky says.

I'm at a complete loss. If I do something, everyone is going to know. If I don't, these fuckers are going to run right over me. Barley could get in trouble, and the Capitol bitches will be on me like flies on shit. Why am I even caring so much about what they think? Actually, I can think of a hundred reasons why.

"Stop it. He's the first available tribute in years."

"You can get way better, Caroline. He is just a creepy little midget who lucked up."

Fuck it.

I stand up and lean across the table. "Listen to me, you shitheaded bull dyke. Nobody wants to hear your shit. Nobody cares about what you think. So why don't you all just fuck off to the back of that fish roll bar a-."

"Sushi."

"Fuck you," I say to the long haired guy. "And jack off like the chicken shit you are."

I'm way too trigger-happy now. These people are irritating me. I feel angrier and angrier. I used to be so much calmer. It can't be the Games. I knew I had to kill. I didn't have anybody to lose. Why am I so tired of dealing with other people?

Sleep. Yes, I need sleep. That'll make me better.

The entire group stands up with their plates. Spiky is fuming and runs off as fast as he can through the thick crowd. The other guy goes with him. The two girls stand in front of me for a few seconds. The golden eyes one sighs.

"Just when I thought we had good Victor."

A good Victor. Why do I have to be a good Victor. Aren't all Victors supposed to be good enough. Shit. There's no satisfying these people.

All that's left is the green eyed girl. She stammers and opens her mouth a few times. No sound comes out.

A few more seconds inch by.

She croaks a response. "I'd...really like to see you again. When you feel better." She reaches into her small lavender leather purse. She pulls out a small green bottle. Unscrewing the top, she throws to white tablets on my plate.

"They're for your head. I saw you rubbing it before we came over. Just trust me."

She walks away with a small blush on her pale cheeks.

I stare at the partying crowd. They seem happier than they've ever been. And here I am at the corner of the room like some broken toy. Isn't that fucking hilarious. My own party, and I'm completely alone at it. To be fair, that is probably my fault.

When I was at Nine, I wasn't face with any questions of dealing with people or not. My life was me going solo. Now I have to choose, and I have a feeling that no matter what I pick, the opposite will happen.

Things can't be simple anymore, huh?

I look down at the two tablets. Seeing a garbage can a few feet to my right, I throw them out. She seemed nice and genuine, but I'm not taking chances with those Capitol cunts. Last thing I want is waking up tied up and naked in some fan girl's bed.

I pick up the wooden things known as chopsticks and grip them in a fist. Then, I stab it down onto the sushi. It's like a fork, right? When I pick it up, I accidentally let the sticks separate, and the whole roll rips in half.

Then I snap the chopsticks.

I'm never going to these shitholes again.

* * *

**You're probably wondering right now: Why the hell should I care about this? Well, besides hoping that you would respect and appreciate my writing enough, there are things here that will change the Games for next season. It's going to be a lot of fun dealing with other dimensions. Any ideas on what may happen?**

**What was great here? What was awful? What do you want to see happen next?**

**Victor's Tour is next! It's going to be a little lengthy, but people like that.**

**Remember, I need OCs for the Rebellion forces. Preferably around 16-24. The same App applies, just take out Game specific material. Moe information will be requested when necessary.**

**Review early and often!**


	56. The Victor Tour

District 1

Satine La'more was in an acting troupe. She was apparently very close to some acting group.

Glint Mugg was a typical Career. He was cocky, confident, and laid back. He was pretty popular at the training center.

And I have to give eulogies about them.

Barley sits me down at a mirror table. USDA yada yada

"I don't know these people."

"It's no big deal. Just pretend you liked everybody, and we can all go home."

"That girl tried to blow me."

"I'm sure you would have done the same thing in that situation. "

The stage set up is in the town square. A sea of people are waving and cheering together as they push against the other packed bodies. Large buildings loom over and throw shadows on the crowd. Windows are open and workers lean out. Confetti and streamers are flung from them. The sun is falling below the horizon. It's orange rays sting my eyes and make me hot in my black suit. I shield them with the shadow of my hand and squint.

After the introduction is done, I look down at Barley's scribbling. I can't complain. My writing is chicken scratch, too. It's a miracle I can read.

I clear my throat. The crowd halts in sound.

"Thank you everybody." I say slowly. Barley's writing is tough to read. "I appreciate you all being here today. Thanks to you, and the amazing generosity of Capitol citizens and you, citizens of District One-."

The crowd hollered in approval.

I look to Barley. She points at her face and smiles. If I could sigh, I would. I'm feeling even more self-conscious now, and Barley dolling me up isn't helping.

I plaster on a smile. "I was able to survive this year's Hunger Games. However, I met two amazing Tributes in the process."

I flip the card over. "Satine La'more was a very charismatic girl. She was energetic, friendly, and very...easy on the eyes."

The crowd laughs. I feel ridiculous. Barley must be doing this on purpose. I bet she is giggling behind me right now.

"She was a worthy Tribute, and I'm honored to have seen her in her final hours."

I look to her acting group on the platform with her picture glowering behind it. They seem a little sheepish, almost embarrassed to be standing there. Where they embarrassed because of what she did, or that she died? I heard these people were like that; they were embarrassed when their Tribute died, not sad. Although I could he entirely wrong.

"Glint was another great Tribute. He was strong and would have been a perfect Victor. I'm glad that he was in the arena with me, and maybe in another universe, we could have been allies."

Another universe? Why the hell did she put that in there?

"I promise that these two Tributes will live on. Both in my mind, and in all of Panem's mind."

I turn and walk away. The crowd explodes behind me.

At the party later that night, it was almost the exact same as the one at the Capitol. The decorations were gold, the marble statues stood, and rubies were encrusted into the railing on the staircases. The same room, same setup, and same headache.

The people weren't dressed like clowns. They seemed to be in normal formal clothes. Then again, what would I know about formal clothes?

There's this weird food called Caviar. It's rich people food. They smear it on these crackers and eat it. They're some sort of fish eggs. There's also this singed cake-like thing called a soufflé. Fuck it. I'm going back to the sushi.

As I reach for the tongs, a hand quickly brushes mine.

A girl a few inches taller with long platinum blonde hair and blue eyes giggles.

"Sorry about that. I just got nervous."

I raise an eyebrow.

"I mean, I've never been by someone like you before."

"Like me?"

"A Victor. Smart, powerful." She leans in closer. "Sexy."

I hope not all the girls in District one are like Satine or this chick, because overpopulation might become a problem quite soon.

"How about we run somewhere else? My house is only a block away." She winks at me.

I don't want to deal with any of these people. I thought people knew when others wanted to be alone. And what's with these girls not taking a hint. I have more self-respect than that.

"I...uh...just took a shower." I say.

She looks like she saw a lizard run across the floor. "What?"

"I mean...maybe when I come back in a few months."

She huffs. "Well, my house is the big one with the eagle on the top. You can't miss it. See you around."

As she leaves, I can't help but wonder what this tense feeling is. Whenever I'm alone, I feel fine. When I'm surrounded by people, I feel...I don't want to say it. I'm not lonely. They're people around me. I'm not left alone for longer than ten minutes. It's an uncomfortable swirling, and it starts the moment I see those crowds and parties.

I stare at the party around me. The orchestra is as cheery as ever. The people are chatting and drinking their alcohol. Bleh. Just the thought of alcohol makes me want to gag.

They don't have a care in the world. So why should I?

**District Two**

District Two is next. Slate Bedford was another classic Career. Except she was the opposite of Glint. She was cold and calculating. Barley said she was supposed to be one of those ruthless and manipulative freaks, but clearly that didn't work out.

Cadmium Ruse got mixed in with the other pack. Barley told me that people thought he was fun and cocky like Glint. Although, looking at what happened to him during the Games, he seemed a lot angrier and brooding than he let on. Teasing from the Seven girl didn't help.

They decided to have the eulogies happen at nighttime. District Two isn't as urban, but there are still a few office buildings here and there.

I don another fake smile. "Hello everybody. Thank you for your amazing hospit...hospitality." I don't know all of these giant words. Barley needs to understand my level of education is very low.

"With a great tribute like Slate, it's a wonder that she isn't standing her instead of me. She was strong, fierce, and would have won in any other year. I'm sure her family is very proud."

I turn my head towards Cadmium's family. His parents are standing on the platform. His mom has a cat draped around her shoulders.

"Cadmium was a Care-careful person that knew what to do in the face of danger. He was a great fighter, and I would have been honored to have done battle with him in the arena."

I breathe. "Thank you to all the people that have supported me. Let these two Tributes stay in our memory forever."

District Three is here. A large group of factories are around the area. The sky is mostly dark grey. The air is tough to breathe. It sucks to breathe in this shitty air. How could anyone get use to this? How does no one die from air poisoning or whatever you call it.

At the square, most people were in white coats and yellow vests. The work day was still going on, so people had to leave their jobs.

I walk up to the microphone. "Arlene wasn't somebody I thought would be very strong, but she proved us all wrong with how powerful she was with her charm and dignity. I know that her family is very proud to have called her a daughter."

"Jacob was an enjoyable tribute that fought hard and vial antler tiwards the end. He wasn't a favorite, and he didn't have many fans, but he needs to be remembered for being a gods person. Simple as that."

**District Four**

The train ride to District Four was a little longer than most. Not because of the length, but because of the big pill I'll he swallowing.

"He raped somebody? And I'm supposed to talk about how great he is."

Barley scratched something out on her notes. "He didn't rape anybody. It was just don't mention the rape part. People forgot those things quickly."

"If someone raped you, you would forget it?"

"Just don't say the r word."

"Because everybody's ass clenches whenever you say it?"

Barley smiled. "You catch on fast."

"Lucky guess."

The stage was set by the seaside. My back to the ocean, I look out at the brown wooden buildings that stretched further into the town. The sea salt cleared through my airways. It felt very relaxing. I've never been to the beach before. It seems like a good place. Fitting how the Capitol favorites come out of here a lot. I would want to live here, too.

It would give me a great place to be alone. Just me and the waves around me.

"Paige was the life of the party at the training center. She always made people laugh. She brightened the entire place up whenever things got too dark. Her group wouldn't have survived two seconds if she didn't help bond them together."

"Romeo was a great man that fell victim to the tough world of the Games. He was an excellent individual that loved everybody around him. He was a true gentleman."

And then became a real asshole at the end.

At the District Gala, I'm sitting on a bench away from the big party behind me. I look out at the ocean. It is dark and calm. The lights from the party make the stars above hard to see, but I'm fine with that. I never bothered to think what was past them, anyway. I deal with the shit that happens right here in the real world. I don't need to fantasize about anything. This is real, what is happening now.

Far from the party, the crashing waves are even louder, and my chest slowly brings in the calming salty air. The concrete beneath my feet crunches from the bits of sand on the ground. They even sparkle a little in the few beams of the streetlight that sneaks past my shadow.

I'm glad I'm alone. There's no one here to bother me. Nobody can pull any shit on me. It's just me and that stupid sky.

**District Five**

"Are you serious?"

We are back in the train. I stood in the doorway to my room. Barley just came and told me about the special situation with this girl. She actually tried to escape the Games. She was the only one that tried to pilot the spaceship, and she crashed it into the force field. However, the screen cut away before anyone saw the impact.

"As serious as rain on a Birthday party."

"I'm assuming she didn't make it."

"That would be be the best answer, yes."

I left it alone. Whatever happened, it doesn't bother me.

"Timas Eitienne was a big wallflower. He didn't attract as much attention as he should have gotten, but that was his biggest asset. He was an excellent Tribute that showed the greatness of District Five.

"Cyrene Polymer was the...definition of smart. She was the mist cunning Tribute in the entire arena. It's no wonder she died the way she did." Really, Barley? I had to say that?

"She was one if the best Tributes in the arena, and she would have been a perfect Victor. Thanks to these two Tributes for participating, and I know you are all proud."

**District Six**

The girl from Six decided to tag along with Cyrene. I'm sure her parents will feel that in the next few days as well. The Capitol shitheads don't take kindly to that shit.

The only person standing on Monette's platform is a man in an orange jumpsuit. He is in a chair with handcuffs keeping him pinned to it.

"Monette Zacharias was an angelic person that had the wit and knowledge to survive in any environment. Her spirit will love on with her District."

I'm starting to get impatient with the same words over and over again. I need to speed things up.

"Casmond Indianno was her best friend. They're friendship was strong and lasted until the very end. I know that...friends are extremely important to human beings."

Barley is as subtle as a brick over my head.

"So I realize how sacred their bond was, and I'm glad that they will remain in everybody's hearts."

**District Seven**

"That's the one I fought at the end, right?"

After looking at some of Seven's tape, I see some of the other details from what they went through in the Games. It's weird seeing that kind of shit. It's pretty disgusting that this was some sort of show.

"Yup. You see, Seven has changed. The reason she got that far is because they have a real training center now."

"Really?"

"Yup. You're going to learn a lot about that soon."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, haven't you learned something already?"

Barley is getting on my fucking nerves. That's been happening a lot more lately.

"Eva-Marie Green was an excellent Tribute. She had the strength and ten-tenacity to take on any of the others. She was controlled and capable. I'm sure her idol, Johanna Mason, would have been proud."

"Aaron Artaga was her best friend, and for good reason. Together, they were a powerful team that made their District very proud. He was a...formidable opponent that fought tooth and nail until the very end."

I'm eating some fried pork at the Gala. Just then, some tan muscular kid threw a plate on the table.

"Had fun in the Games?" He asks me.

I keep chewing and look at him.

"You know who you fucked with, right? You remember Eva-Marie?"

"Yeah. I do. You think I'd forget?" I ask.

He leans in closer. His brown hair comes down to his blue eyes. "Guess who I am?"

I shake my head. "The mailman? Can you leave me alone?"

Then, he pushes me off my chair onto the ground. I fall into the hardwood floor. He towers over me.

"I'm Nathaniel. Her boyfriend."

I keep looking at him. There's no reason to say anything. I've caused him enough pain and shit. No need I rub it in.

A few Peacekeepers start to swarm towards him. Two of them grab him by both arms and start to drag him away.

"Fuck you. I'll slit your throat the moment I see you again. Let me go," he shouts. "If you come back here, you're dead. You'll be six feet shorter than you are now."

He leaves. I stand up, the crowd looking at me.

I take in a breathe. "I'm five foot four. I'm not short."

Not a sound.

**District Eight**

Nothing really happened through the next District. It was mostly sitting and watching Barley take notes. So I'm back here on a stage, looking at a sad crowd trying to act happy that I'm here.

"Cleo Ellis was a fearless Tribute that did what she had to do to survive. Because of her tenacity and bravery, I was able to sneak past and help take down the other Victor's around me."

"Ambrosi Finley was an enjoyable person. He was very hyper and happy. Because of his pen-pen-penchant for being loose and laid-back, he made training much more bearable for all of us."

**District Ten**

"Talon wasn't a very flashy person. She was kind, humble, and enjoyed life around her. Her hard working nature was perfect for success in life, and many need to follow her example."

"I was honored to take on Sirch head on during the Games. He was an amazing and strong adversary. It was the thrill of my life battling with him, and I'm gal he had an honorable memory to leave us on Earth with."

**District Eleven **

District Eleven seemed very uptight. There were so many Peacekeepers, you couldn't spit without hitting one. The fields were endless, and workers power through them as I looked out the window. It was under military lockdown.

At the Ceremony, I decide it's best to play along. Barley told me some shit went down at one of these things here. Another Capitol fucker killed some poor guy.

"Koring Evan was a good person that got put in the wrong situations. If there were good people in the world, Koring would have been a great person to know."

"Xavier Thomas was a strong and fer-ferociously loyal person. His allies were in good hands with him, and he played the Game the way it was meant to be played: honorably."

I learn about grits that night. I also learn that stealing them is a must here like in Nine. Some guy snuck into the party uninvited and tried to get food.

I see him underneath the table closest to the open door. A Peacekeeper is walking towards the long table.. Another inch, and he'll be seen.

I throw an apple at the Peacekeeper's feet.

"Dropped it. Mind bringing it?" I ask.

The guy rolls his eyes and picks it up. Thankfully, he doesn't turn his head to the freckled black man. When he turns towards me, the Peacekeeper misses him.

The man gets out of his hiding spot and runs to the door. Not before giving me a nod of thanks, though.

**District Twelve**

District Twelve was the last one. It was hidden away in the cold mountains. Puffs of smoke floated into the grey sky. It was cold. Small ice patches were starting to form on the standing water by the cracked street curbs.

We circled around the District and took a long way. There is a part of the District that has been closed off. I think it's called the Seam. No one gets in, and no one gets out of it. Barley said a bunch if construction was done by the Capitol after last year. Then again, I don't keep up with the news very much. Bombing happened, Catnip whatever and a bunch of other people died, and they rebuilt Twelve. That's all I care to know. Barley shook her head.

The town is small and quaint. The buildings are made of grey stone, and the Peacekeepers are more rampant here than anywhere else. The crowd is dead silent. Most of them are in faded blue and grey clothes. The entire area is reeking in grey and light blue. No wonder people get depressed as hell here. I am interested in the Seam. Is it as bad as Nine's ghetto? Could I survive there?

Standing on the small stage, I look towards the platforms the two families are standing on.

"It's been a long and enjoyable Tour, and I'm glad to have it end in District Twelve. The hardest working and fruitful District in Panem."

These people look miserable. I don't think I'll be able to change that by being here. If being around others that were happy made me feel weird, this is way worse.

"Despite...the hardship you have all faced in the recent past, you provided two incredible Tributes worthy of sacrifice for the Hunger Games."

I look at the family with a mom and twins. "Venus Whitmore was one of the most energetic and enjoyable Tributes to be in the arena with me. She loved her home as much as...life itself. She was smart, independent, and would have made a Victor that this District, and Panem, could be proud of."

I turn to the other side. "Joshua wasn't one to have much chu-chutzpah in the arena. But he had the tenacity and drive to make himself a good Tribute and make his family happy for knowing someone like him."

I look back at Barley. She gestures for me to smile. With another quick sigh, I grin again. "And thank you for allowing me to finish my lengthy trip at an...amazing place like District Twelve."

The crowd looks like they want to eat me. And that may be because they're hungry, not mad.

I wave and leave.

Now I'm at the District Gala. I'm sitting at the corner again. This time, the same lady on Venus's platform is sitting in front of me.

"We made that rabbit earlier today. Taste good?" She asks.

"Taste like chicken." I say.

She giggles. "A lot of things taste that way. It's amazing how different things look, yet they're all the same."

"Yup."

"You know that I don't hate you."

I set my fork down. A few tears are threatening to fall from her eyes.

"Why not?" I ask. "I'd hate me."

"You didn't kill her, first of all. Secondly, you did what you needed to do. We're lucky. We live in a good part of town. We have a nice home. Those others, people like you, are out there. And I'm glad one of them gets a chance to actually see the world the way she wanted to see it."

"Then aren't you jealous of me? Wouldn't she be?"

She sniffles. "Trust me. She's just fine."

Trust me. If I trusted every single person that has said that to me, I'd be dead.

I board the train later that night. It's on its way for home. My new home.

When I step inside, Barley tells me to sit down.

She seems serious. I'm already getting nervous.

"Tell me what's wrong." I say.

She walks behind me and puts her hands on my shoulders. "I'm sorry, but you can't know where we're located yet."

The moment I start to turn around, a syringe stabs my neck.

Black.

* * *

**Instead of me asking a question, you get to ask one! In the last chapter, I will be answering any and all questions submitted to me by you! Ask as many as you want! I'm all ears!**

**Tell me what you thought about this. Tell me what you think about our Victor. **

**One to go before next season! Get ready!**


	57. A New Odyssey

My eyelids feel heavy.

The black covering my vision wipes away slowly. I open my eyes.

I'm laying on a metal table. The room is covered in a dark red light. The ceiling is high above me. Around me are a bunch of television screens and displays with numbers and information running through them like a hamster on a wheel. A low humming is whirring around me from the machines.

I step off I to the tile floor. This seems to be some sort of control room.

I realize I'm trapped somewhere. The last thing I remember was Barley stabbing me with some needle. That stupid shithead stabbed me with a needle. The one fucking person I could...believe when she told me shit, and she literally stabbed me in the back,

Why did I even believe her anyway? I should've kept my guard up. I had this shit coming.

I hear a voice from the silver door in front of me. It sounds like a group of people.

I hurry to the side of the door. I crouch down and wait.

I can't hear what they're saying, but it sounds like at least five of them.

Closer.

A shadow comes from the sliver of bright light underneath the door.

It slides open.

A man in a green uniform with a rifle in his hands walks in. Another man in a cream white suit walks in behind him. He gasps.

"Where'd he go?"

I spring towards the soldier in front of the greying man. I knock away the gun in his hands. Just then, I see a dark grenade on his belt. Before the man can even react, I swipe away the grenade and kick back the gun.

I leap backwards away from the group. The grenade is raised in my hand.

All the guns automatically point towards me.

The man runs forward in front of the guards. "No. Don't shoot."

"Drop it." One of the guards shouts.

You really want me to drop it?" I ask. I see Barley behind the others, and I feel a simmering anger inside me.

"What did you do?" I shout at her.

"Please, Aslovee. Let us explain." She says.

"Drop the grenade." The guard shouts.

"Fuck you."

"Aslovee, we won't hurt you. Trust us." The man in front says

"I'm not trusting shit. You think I'd still be alive if I trusted anyone?"

"You can trust us, Aslovee. We won't hurt you." Barley shouts.

"Drop it." The guard says.

"That's enough. We get it. Aslovee, if you let us explain, we won't do anything." The man in front says.

"I don't believe you. Let me go or I'll do it. I'll blow us up."

"Aslovee, listen."

"Just calm down." Barley says.

"Set it down and we'll talk." A new voice in front of Barley says.

"No," I yell. "I won't do it. I'm not talking to you. I'm not listening to you. I've already survived, and I'm not giving you shitheads the satisfaction of taking me out. Because-."

"Put it down."

"Don't do it. Think about what you're doing."

"You're not in the Games. You're safe."

"Shut up." I yell.

Silence. The two guards are trying to push by the older man in front. Barley looks sad behind the other younger guy. They all stare at me. The grenade is still locked in my hand.

"If I don't get out of here, none of us do."

The man turns around after calming the guards. "We will compromise. You can keep the grenade, and we'll talk. You two," he points behind him. "Lower the guns."

They follow his orders.

"Now, let me introduce us. Calmly. Gale, come up here."

A tall young man with dark brown hair and grey eyes walks towards me. He stops next to the guy.

"My name is Felix Schultz. I'm in charge here. This is Gale Hawthorne, the head of military activity. And we are the new Rebellion."

"What the fuck are you talking about? The Rebellion died, right?"

The man sighs. "It's a bit of a long story. But necessary for you to know."

"I didn't know all this either, Aslovee. I'm a surprised as you are," Barley says.

The man clears his throat. "After Katnis-. You know who Katniss Everdeen is, right?"

"I think I got the gist of her."

"Good. Anyway, after she was rescued from the arena in last years Hunger Games, she was taken to District Thirteen. There, she did the job she was given. She was a symbol for the rebellion. She was in promotions, worked with the army, and fought in the Capitol.

"Where was I when this shit was happening?"

"You tell us."

"In an alleyway."

"Correct. She lead a group into the Capitol, and we held a siege against them. Things went according to plan. The bad part of the plan, though, was the bomb that dropped on the Capitol. Complements of our tech folks and the army General, Gale Hawthorne."

"We had to do it," he said in a loud voice. "They were using a human shield. We had to be the ones to break it."

"Calm down. What's done is done. The point is that the people in Thirteen had a hard time trusting others that would willingly kill all of those civilians. Isn't that funny? They ask for revolution at any cost, but they couldn't stand the sight of blood. We started to crumble from the inside. People were made at Gale and the lea-"

"that's General, thank you."

"Fuck you. Anyway, President Coin was installed as head. Our supporters were getting angrier with how we handled things. See, the Katniss dynasty, as I like to call it, wasn't built on a strong foundation. Fear and vengeance propelled them to Revolution. Fear of the powers above them, and vengeance for the lives lost. What happens when people start to fear us? What happens when they hate us for the blood spilt?"

"They rebel agains themselves." I say.

"That's what we are here for. We are the second rebellion. We are created on a foundation of loyalty and selflessness. We aren't going to improve the destroyed, but recreate the greatness humans used to have. And we have decided that this world is one leg on a banana peel and the other in the grave."

"So you're leading a mass suicide? Because that's what you wacky fuckers are sounding like."

"I'm saddened you think us so weak. Let me finish. Katniss decided that the rebellion was imploding as well, and killed President Coin. That's when we came in. We were a group within the rebellion that refused to revert to such barbaric eugenics as we have seen. The moment the Capitol was overthrown, the world would be the exact same with new faces. Nothing would change. So, we gathered enough supporters for what I would call a passive rebellion. We are sneaking under everybody's noses and changing things without causing any concern. And by the time we do, it will be far too late for them to stop us. "

He pauses and turns toward a television. It showed a live feed of the space station. However, people were hovering around it and using tools to repair the dented and broken surfaces.

"We went a little overboard with the finale, but the station will be fixed in no time. Then, we will work in space."

"What happened with...uh...Catnip, right?"

The other guy snatches a gun from the guard. He starts to move towards me, the barrel pointed at my chest. "Shut the fuck up. Don't you ever call her that again."

I raise the grenade in my hand. "Take another step. Go ahead and take one more step."

The man reaches over and nudges the guy back towards him.

"I apologize. The taco bar was closed today, and Gale hates that. Anyway, a trial was held, and the new President, President Paylor, decided to pardon her. Well, we couldn't let that happen. If Katniss was vindicated, then our cause would die out. Paylor was already planning another Games for the Capitol, and we know for a fact that corruption was already spilling into her bank account. We had to get rid of both of them, or we would face another descent into the status quo."

"The what?"

"The way things were before. So, a very brave man by the name of Jerome was appointed as our double agent. He assassinated Paylor, and Gale here handled Katniss. They were best friends before this whole thing, so it wasn't very hard to do."

"Handled?"

"Tell him Gale. He needs to know."

The guy starts to sniffle. "I helped convince the jury she was insane. She's locked up on the bottom floor of this building."

"I thought you were friends." I say.

He shouts. "You don't know what it's like. Don't you think I thought of that when I was on that stand testifying against her. I spent everyday for the next month with a gun to my head, ready to escape from what I did." He pauses. A few tears are starting to run down his face. "But I know that this is for the best. This isn't just for her or for the rebellion."

"Correct, Gale. This is for all of mankind. But to end the story, Jerome killed Paylor, and since we garnered enough followers, we split off on our own from the others. Fortunately, the lion's share of the tech and engineering department had wet dreams after we told them our plans so they came with. We left with the supplies and money two days before the Capitol got their act together and decimated Thirteen. Turns out, when Paylor died, there were no orders being sent to the Rebels in the Capitol. In the frenzy, Somebody dropped the ball in the communication department. Paylor's death was the last straw. The Old Rebellion split literally from the inside. And we became the New Rebellion."

"So you destroyed the Rebellion on purpose to start a new one?"

"You're a smart cookie, Aslovee. I couldn't imagine giving this talk to, let's say, Romeo."

"So you fuckers started the Games again on purpose?"

The man sighs again. "That's what you're here for. Part of our plan is gaining enough support against the Games from the Capitol. That way, people are more willing to drop them and join us on our excursion. We are not selfish like Katniss or Paylor. We want everybody to escape with us. People don't want to be forced away from things. However, if they think that it is their choice, then they will acquiesce peacefully to our plans."

"By that, you mean they'll let you do what you want without fighting."

"Exactly."

"And I'm supposed to get them to support us without them knowing.

"Yup."

"So I'm playing mascot."

"You're a distraction. Just like Katniss. But instead of distracting from something that doesn't yet exist, that being the former Rebellion, you are distracting and gaining support for our plans. If they think it's their choice to allow us to move ahead in our plans, then we will have no trouble escaping. We are quite short on military personnel, anyway. So fighting head on is out of the question."

"And what are you planning on doing? Because you all sound fucking nuts."

"Almost done. Jerome, our amazing double agent. We really need to make a plaque for him. Remind me of that, Barley. So he killed Paylor, and we moved here. An old underground base used by the Capitol during the 'dark ages' or whatever the hell the time before the Games were. Again, keeping with that whole 'right under their noses theme.' Jerome was implanted to the Capitol as Head Gamemaker. President Snow was replaced with Lanarsus. Jerome killed Lanarsus, and now we have a much more agreeable figure as President. One that will be more sensible than those morons. That being said, we still can't just streak across the Capitol stage and your our intentions. Like the Capitol, we are subtly implanting these ideas into their minds as a guise involving the Games."

"That's why it was space. Because you needed a space station."

"And it's hard to build one in secret. So why make it a secret? Say it's for the Games, and they're putty in our hands. And these next Games are going to follow the same exact plan. We need to prove that what we are going to do is possible. The only way to test that out without attracting attention is to, ironically, bring as much attention to it as possible with the Games."

"So what is it?"

"Inter-dimensional travel. Project Chekov. We are sending the Tributes into other dimensions. If it works, then we will be ready for the final phase. If not, Plan B. Colonize Space. Or Plan C. Convince the Capitol they are too good for the Games. You work perfectly for all three plans."

"So it's a test run."

"Absolutely. They're some holes we're still sewing up, so if something seems amiss with the plan, rest assured we will iron those wrinkles out."

"You shitheads are insane."

"We are the last chance for humanity to redeem itself. We will escape to another dimension. One where the Games does not exist. One where we won't live in fear or have an incessant need to avenge those that have fallen. And it all starts with you."

"Of course, we aren't stupid," The fucker with the gun says. "We don't want you turning out like Katniss."

"So we must ask for your cooperation. If not, then we will simply hinge on Plan A working. However, if that doesn't work out, than we're all screwed. No Plan B or C. So what will it be?"

We stand in silence. I can't believe what I'm being thrown into. I thought this shit was over, but it seems like it's even more dangerous than whatever happened before.

"I don't know shit about other dimensions. I don't even know what a dimension is."

"Perfectly fine. We don't need you to be a rocket scientist. We need you to be a symbol. One of trust, strength, resilience, and one that can see the beauty in the unknown like we can. One that isn't afraid to go into a place never dreamed possible. A place where we can actually live. But I've been on my soapbox long enough. Your move."

Another pause. The ball is in my court now. I can stop this somehow. My whole life, I've only needed to care about myself. Now, they want me to are for the rest of the world?

"If it doesn't work, the Games can still end?"

"Yup. Only with our cooperation, though."

I set the grenade on the floor.

"I just want to fucking live in a real house with real food. I don't want this shit. But I'll help. I'm man enough to know that there are some things bigger than me. But listen. I'm not relying on this. I've lived my whole life surviving. So the moment it starts to break down or I think I might get killed, I never knew any of you shitheads. I've done too much to throw everything away on some weird dream you have about going into space."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way." The man smiles. "You will be assigned a liaison that will give you information from us and the Capitol as well. Another double agent if you will. Also, I believe you met Russell. He'll be visiting every Tuesday and Friday at three for therapy sessions."

"I don't need therapy."

"Again, just a precaution. We don't want a broken down Victor. You could still be in shock for all we know."

Barley walks over to me from behind the group. She touches my shoulder, trying to calm me down. A syringe is held over his arm. Barley holds down my arm, which is struggling from the needle's aim.

"Relax," Barley says. "It's the same thing as before."

The man comes closer and stops a foot away from my face. He looks like he is thinking of something, but then he just waves it off with his hand.

"Anyway, I want to make it clear that you were never here. The train home had problems, and you had to stop for repairs. Those train folk are in on this, so don't worry about being dragged away when you wake up."

Before I pass out, I need to get something straight. For all I know, these drugs are making me weird.

"Is this real?"

The man chuckles. "Do you think there is life out in Space? That there is something out there bigger and brighter than us?"

"No."

He sighs. "Then I guess this isn't real. But on the upside, that means nothing else is real, either."

The syringe goes into my skin.

* * *

Somewhere in the sun-stroked tall grass of the African Serengeti, where the lions roar for a meal and the giraffes roam free, a hatch opens, and Cyrene Polymer peeks out into the unknown.

* * *

**We are finished! Congratulations! I will be posting the next SYOT soon. Caution. The first few chapters may focus on Aslovee and the new Rebellion. It is important groundwork for the conditions during next season's Games. I hope you all review those as well, because they will count for sponsor points. **

**I'm not quite sure how I will transfer sponsor points yet. If anyone has ideas, let me know!**

**Question Time:**

**Sonofthetrigod: What made you set the Games in space?**

For far too long, I noticed that SYOTs were bound to the same formula. Forest, rainforest, island, ect. I always wanted to see what would happen in a less localized setting. Nobody had done space before, or anywhere outside of Earth, so I decided to be the first. That being said, since I am the first, I will not hold this idea to my chest. I invite others to do their spin on this setting as well. However, I demand and deserve credit. So, if somebody does decide to do it, please give credit to me in the summary.

**grandvizier527: Could you give us a hint as to what the dimension for the next Games will be like?**

I'm still ironing out wrinkles like Felix said. I will say that i will be using many ideas and theories about what Dimensions are actually made of, and exploiting that for some nice emotional and physical insanity pressed on our beloved Tributes. It will be quite trippy. Just remember that there is more to dimensions than length, width, and height.

**KeketTheDestroyer: What was the situation where a Peacekeeper shot someone in District Nine?**

Just normal Capitol antics. Maybe. Or maybe I'm not prepared to say yet. Sorry.

**Because I didn't get as many questions as I would have liked, I will be answering further questions in the first chapter of the next SYOT. I will tell you the title in another chapter. Just so you know.**

**I am proud of what I accomplished. I would have lied to focus more on the human drama involved, and imagery is always tedious to make. Especially in a setting like this. I'm going to have my hands full in the next SYOT. **

**If I were to do things differently, I'd probably slow down a bit more for character development towards more people. I realize I glossed over some of my least favorite Tributes, but I must be impartial as the author and stay creative. **

**Also, I would have gotten a co-writer. I think it would have been much better to deal with this with more help. Maybe I'll even think about that for the next one.**

**Please ask more questions! This is your turn to grill me!**

**That being said, do you like this plot at the moment? Are you satisfied to find out some of the truth? Let me know!**

**Thank you very much to all OC creators and people that stuck with me. Thank you to sonofthetrigod for being on board from the very beginning. Thank you to KeketTheDestroyer for leaving some of the best reviews I've ever gotten despite not even having a stake in the matter. Thank you grandvizier527 for not complaining about being spammed about this silly little thing and taking part in it. Go read Thou Art Mortal. Th chapters are so much longer and fulfilling than my quick 2500 word shots in the dark per chapter. Thanks to Platrium for helping me be not-French and be English. Thank you to the most critical reviewers I have seen for any SYOT. You really are the toughest crowd to please, so for you all to have even a morsel of enjoyment from this, I thank you.**

**Thanks for playing! **


	58. Transfer Time

My next SYOT, the sequel, is called Doors of Perception. Check it out! Good luck!


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